The Choice of Fate
by Bubsie
Summary: Harry Potter is not the BWL, his brother is. Harry is lost and doesn't know who he is. Both struggle for acceptance, and both have made a name for themselves. Harry now faces the greatest challenge ever. NOT the Typical brother of the BWL! Loving Family!
1. Prologue

I am only going to write this once so listen up. I do NOT own Harry Potter and all associated characters that you have seen before. I would love to have the royalties but since I don't I am only borrowing Harry and Co. for my own amusement.

* * *

"Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds."

Franklin D. Roosevelt

* * *

Prologue

* * *

October 31st 1980 was like many other Halloween nights in the small village of Godric's Hollow; children could be seen running up and down the streets begging candy from neighbors while their parents watched from a few feet away. There were witches and Ghosts and ballerinas; every creature of the imagination was represented and the villagers who opened their doors to the children were regaled with a new costume every time there was a knock.

One house on the street was not receiving any young visitors however. The children seemed to glance over it as they headed towards each new destination. This house was special. It was the home of James and Lily Potter and their twin sons. They were not just any family though, they were magical. The creatures that the children were dressed as were as real to them as the children themselves. It wasn't even this though that made the house so unique. There were hundreds, if not thousands of homes in England that housed magical people, this home was special because it was a secret.

* * *

"Lily!" James Potter yelled up the stairs with exasperation. "We need to go. The order meeting will be starting any moment."

At that moment Lily Potter was watching her two children sleeping in their cots. Harry James Potter would be a heart breaker when he grew up. He had wild black hair and a strait nose that he inherited from his father and the vibrant green eyes that she saw in the mirror every day. Michael Evan Potter on the hand was an adorable red head like his mother, but with his father's hazel eyes. With her pert nose and a smattering of freckles across his face he was adorable. The boys might have been twins, but they were far from alike.

As Lily brushed the hair from their foreheads she couldn't help but feel anxious. She and her husband had not been to an order meeting in quite a few months, but an informant had given Albus information that directly involved the child of prophecy, and since her boys were two of the three candidates they needed to be there.

With one last glance she turned away from her sleeping children and headed down the stairs.

"Finally," James groused. "There you are."

As she reached the bottom stair her bi-speckled husband leaned over and gave her a kiss. He saw the look in her eyes however and he thought twice about leaving the boys tonight.

"Is it your spidey-sense?" He asked, worried about what she could be feeling.

Lily just laughed at the term her husband used to describe her sixth sense of sorts. She wasn't a seer in any fashion, but she did know when things were about to happened, especially things of a horrible nature.

"No," she reassured him, "I just wanted to check on the boys one more time, you know how I worry."

Looking at her anxious face James couldn't help but be worried also. He trusted his wife though, and he knew they had to go to this meeting so he let it go.

"I know love," he admitted. "I just don't want to be late and I am sure Elizabeth will be fine, you know how she loves watching the boys. Besides, they're asleep. How much trouble can they cause? Come on, we need to hurry."

A moment later two pops could be heard from the yard and Elizabeth Cornel, the boys godmother, was left with the two boys. At that moment she did not know that she would never see the morning and that when the sun rose the entire Wizarding world would be under the impression that one of the Potter boys had survived the notorious killing Curse. She would never know this because not long after Lily and James left for the order meeting the door would explode inward knocking her against the wall. She was not aware of the wand that took her life away and that would later try to do the same to the children upstairs.

She would never know how much her decision to watch the children would change the outcome of that All Hollows Eve, because, instead of Lily dying to protect her children, all that was between the boys and the evil that was Voldemort was a spoiled ritual. Voldemort had wanted to make a Horcrux with the death of the children, and though he had done this very ritual numerous times, he had unknowingly made a mistake. So, instead of killing the boys, the dark magic backfired before it even touched the children and banished the dark lord from his body. In the resulting blast all of the windows broke and a shard of glass cut Michael from his eyebrow to his cheek. The dark magic in the room was absorbed by both boys and the magic healed the cut on Michael's face leaving a scar radiating dark magic. Later that night when the attack was discovered, Albus Dumbledore examined both boys; he did not detect the magic in Harry, only the residue in Michael's scar, and though neither boy was truly marked, Michael Potter was declared the child of prophecy. As dawn approached, word spread of the attack and subsequent defeat of the Dark Lord, and all across the United Kingdom glasses were raised to Michael Potter; The-Boy-Who-Lived.


	2. A Dragon and A Sphinx

It is not giving children more that spoils them; it is giving them more to avoid confrontation.

John Gray

* * *

A Dragon and a Sphinx

* * *

Three Years later…

"Harry! Mikey! Get down here before the food gets cold!" Lily Potter yelled as she took the last pancake off the stove. Turning to her husband she caught a glimpse of an azure sky and couldn't help but comment, "It looks like it is going to be a beautiful day."

Sitting at the table James couldn't help but agree; it was a beautiful morning. Lily was making breakfast and singing one of those muggle songs she loved so much. The sun was streaming though the kitchen windows and a light breeze was playing with the sheer curtains. Looking at his flour covered wife he couldn't help but be grateful for her.

The past three years hadn't been easy; they were young and had no idea how to raise two young boys, let alone one that was known nation wide and that would one day have to defeat an evil wizard. It was a daunting task.

At that moment James was broken from his reverie by two hyperactive four year olds running down the stairs. Behind his newspaper James couldn't help but chuckled at the exasperated look on his wife's face; she hated when the boys ran down the stairs. Hoping to cut off any comment James rose from his chair and met the boys half way to the kitchen by picking them up and throwing them over his shoulders.

"Aggghhh...Daaaaaaaad!" Michael seemed to have the worst of it since James purposefully knocked him into the door as he past through the foyer.

In the other room Lily couldn't help but grin as she heard the giggles coming from Harry and the outraged cry from her younger son. James was a good father, and though Michael needed more attention due to his future, he loved both his sons and made sure they both knew it.

Before her husband had fully entered the kitchen with the boys she wiped her face of the grin and schooled her features. By the time James looked up at her Lily had an eyebrow raised and her hands on her hips. Sheepishly James put the boys down.

"If you are going to manhandle the boys I would prefer that they eat breakfast first" Lily berated her husband. "I spent all this time making breakfast and I do not want it to go cold." She tried to keep her voice firm, but by the end James could hear the laughter.

"Aw, Lils, you know I never meant to do you wrong." James simpered as he came up to her and wrapped his arms around her waste. "I just wanted to wish the boys a happy birthday."

All lily could do was swipe him with the rag she was still holding and go back to doing dishes.

At the table Harry couldn't help but grin at his brother. They both loved watching their parents banter back and forth. Their mum usually won, but it was always fun to watch their dad try.

Seeing Harry grin behind his eggs James couldn't help but ruffle his hair. "Daaad…! Why did you do that?" As he tried to straiten his hair James couldn't help but think that Harry was too cute when he whined. "Because my little sphinx," James smirked, "It is your birthday."

"It's Michael's birthday too, why didn't you mess his hair up?"

Hearing his brother, Michael noticeably scooted his chair away from James. He hoped his father wouldn't mess up his hair like he had to Harry's.

"Because," he replied with a grin," Michael can brush his hair, you, cannot." James finished his statement by tapping his son on his nose.

"It's not my fault." A petulant Harry retorted as he went back to eating his breakfast.

Watching his sons eat their food —or in the case of Michael eating his food while changing his hair from blue to green with his emerging metamorphagus abilities—he couldn't help but compare his sons. At first glance you would never have known that they were twins, but to James who knew them so well it was easy to see. Though their features were very different, both boys had the same stature and moved in the very same way; unnaturally graceful at times, and clumsy at others. They also had the same exact devil may care grin that made Lily fall in love with him, and the look of innocence that seemed innate for all young children was a double bludger coming from those two.

Like James, they both loved to sleep and were monsters to get up in the morning. They were stubborn and had a devious streak the length of a quiddich pitch. They had Lily's compassion though. Unlike James, they were both very sensitive to people's feelings. This is where the similarities seemed to end though.

Harry was more like his mother then him. Though he could be as rambunctious as any four year old, he had her mild and somewhat serious temperament. He also had Lily's fiery temper, but usually kept it under control.

Michael on the other hand was so easy going that he never seemed to get angry. He could also be compared to a bludger with all the energy that he had. Michael loved stories about the marauders and enjoyed playing pranks. James couldn't help but laugh remembering all the times Michael had nicked one of their wands and the subsequent explosions.

The next thing James knew one of the many owls that Michael had nursed back to health and adopted flew through the open window to land in front of James. Looking down he saw a piece of parchment tied to her talons.

"What is it James?"

Lily was curious who the letter was from. It seemed like every year some of the well wishes for Michael got through the ward they had set up. It wasn't that they wanted to keep things from the boy, but they didn't want him to think that he was so important that he would forget who he was. Also, though Harry understood why his brother got more attention from strangers, she and James had decided long ago to do everything they could to make sure Harry did not feel neglected.

Reading though the letter James absently responded, "Just an invitation to a ministry function in honor of Michael."

"Not another one." Lily hated those functions and every year they had made some excuse as to why they couldn't attend. The pompous Minister of Magic arrogantly believed that they would let him use Michael to promote his public image. He was sadly mistaken.

"Should we say he is sick?" James knew the look he saw in his wife's eyes and fully agreed with her. He remembered ministry functions from when he was a child and he did not want to force them upon his children.

"No, we do want to go out today...we could always say they are grounded for something they did today?" She didn't want to make ministry officials think ill of her children but they had been _sick_ last year and she wasn't sure they could use that excuse again.

Jumping up and down and waving his hand in the air Michael eagerly suggested, "Ooh! I could blow up the kitchen!"

Hating the smirk on James face, lily returned to the counter to place food on two more plates.

As James started scheming with his younger son on just what he should do to be grounded the day after his birthday Harry excitedly jumped up from his seat,

"Moony! Padfoot!"

Before he could even blink the ebony haired child was racing to the foyer. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Looking at his now smirking wife he could see she was placing two more places for their unexpected guests. Shaking his head at his child's inherited ability he too got up to meet his friends.

* * *

An hour later three adults and two children could be found wandering around Diagon Alley. When the boys were asked what they wanted to do for their birthday both boys had completely different ideas. The adults decided to compromise and after opening presents they were spending the morning going around the Alley before going to the park and having a picnic as Harry wanted.

"Okay boys," Lily said seriously. "While we are here you can get one present, so once you get something no more begging. Understood?" Both boys looked excited, but Michael didn't seem to be able to contain his excitement because he was jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.

Smiling at her boys she just grabbed Michael's hand and let him drag her from window to window to look at the goods inside.

Harry on the other hand didn't know where he wanted to go, "I'll just follow you and Uncle Padfoot Daddy. If I see something I'll tell you."

"Are you sure?" James asked.

At his son's nod James grabbed his hand and started towards the Magical Menagerie; he needed to get supplies for all the animals that Michael seemed to bring home. While he was asking about his order James felt a tug on his shirt; when he looked down he noticed Harry biting his lip while Sirius stood grinning in the background. "What is it Harry, is something wrong?"

At his question his son simply pointed over to a pile of stuffed animals. Instantly, James knew what he wanted and grinned with relief that his son hadn't _felt_ anything bad.

"Is that what you want for your birthday? A stuffed animal?" At his son's enthused nod he couldn't help but grin, and excusing himself from the clerk he walked his son over to the pile.

* * *

Walking to the Quidditch store where he knew he would find his wife and son, he couldn't help but marvel at how such simple things pleased Harry. He knew he wasn't like that as a child, and goodness knows Michael wasn't, and though he would never admit it, it was one of the many things that made Harry is favorite out of the two boys.

Thinking about the differences between the two boys James couldn't help but remember that very mourning. James had walked into the foyer to see his best friends fighting over harry.

"_Pup!" exclaimed Sirius as he rushed through the door and picked up a squealing Harry Potter."Let me guess," questioned Sirius with a raised eyebrow, "you knew it was us?"_

"_Yep," replied a proud four year old with a large grin, "And guess what, I lost another tooth."_

"_Well isn't that something cub," Remus Lupin had decided to jump into the conversation and draw the child's attention, "I hope the tooth fairy left you a knut?"_

_As harry nodded his head yes Michael had run in and jumped onto Sirius eliciting an exaggerated groan from the animagus. _

"_It's our birthday! What did you bring me Uncle Paddy!" The hyper child playfully demanded while still hanging on to his Godfather._

_At this James just shook his head while Sirius, with a flourish, brought out two, small, colorfully wrapped packages. As he handed the presents to the boys Lily came in and leaned against the piano that she and Harry loved. _

"_Hello Sirius, and how are you today?" Lily inquired innocently, "Staying out of trouble I hope?" The red head had been around the Marauders too long not to know how to handle them, Sirius Black especially._

"_If you mean have I had any mishandled conquests" he replied with mock outrage, "Then no, I have been a perfect gentlemen, my lady." a snort could be heard in response from Remus, but at the accusing glare his friend sent him it immediately turned into a coughing fit._

_At that moment they were distracted by Michael who got his present opened and drew out a beautifully carved silver dragon pendant. "It's a Chinese fireball," Sirius stated nervously. "I know how much you love dragons." Michael ran back to give Sirius a hug and told him, "I love it Paddy, thank you." He then turned to show his mother the pendant. _

_Meanwhile Harry had just gotten his box open and pulled out a similarly carved Asian sphinx, or a Sanskrit, on a chain. Smiling up at his Godfather, Harry placed the long chain over his head and watched amazed as it re-sized itself to fit his neck._

Thinking about the presents now James couldn't help but think how thoughtful they were. Sirius had found Harry a Sphinx pendant because that was his own nickname for his son. Harry was so inquisitive; he loved riddles and solving mysteries. He was also _very_ protective of his family. Though usually female, the mythological creature exemplified the combination of wisdom and strength. It was a perfect portrayal of the man he would one day be.

Michael on the other hand was simply in love with dragons. He was very found of all creatures, but he was particularly fascinated by the nearly indestructible avian reptiles. He kept begging Lily and him to take him to the reserve in Bulgaria, and though they hadn't given him an answer yet, they were secretly planning a trip in the fall.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts James followed Sirius and his son into Quality Quidditch Supplies. "Look dad!" Michael was pointing at the new Nimbus 1400, supposedly the fastest broom on the market. "Can I get one?" For a moment James wanted to say yes, but then the responsible part of him, which funny enough sounded like Lily, said it was too big for a child of four. "Not this year buddy, how about we look at the toy tyke models." He hated seeing the disappointed looks on his son's face but seeing the proud smirk his wife sent his way from where she stood with the clerk discussing the murder of Barty Crouch, he knew it had been the right decision.

Sirius did not exactly feel the same way, "Prongs old man, I thought I would never see the day." He lamented, "You, being responsible."

"Shut up, Padfoot"

* * *

A few hours later Lily could be seen stepping out of Melonie's Music where she had wanted to check if they had any new elementary music sheets. Sirius, feeling playful toward the red head that he thought of as a sister commented, "Lily you are corrupting my godson, it is bad enough that you have Michael cooking in the kitchen, but you have Harry wanting to play that Muggle contraption and the piano like some lady."

Knowing Sirius was playing with her, she couldn't help but take a shot at the self proclaimed Bachelor, "First of all Sirius Black, girls love men who can appreciate the finer things in life. Girls will be falling over themselves to date a boy that can cook and Harry can dazzle the ladies with his musical ability." Lily Retorted, "And besides, the guitar in _not_ some Muggle contraption, it is a musical instrument Mr Tone Deaf."

Listening to his best friend and wife banter back and forth James almost missed the insistent tugging of his eldest son. Looking down at Harry he couldn't help but be worried—earlier Harry had had an anxious look on his face, now the child was down right scared. Bending down to look Harry in the eye he asked, "What is it little one? What's wrong?"

"I want to go now daddy." His son replied softly.

Looking up at his wife to tell her what Harry was feeling he could tell she was feeling something similar. "James, we..." she began.

"Need to go?" he finished. At her questioning look he just nodded toward their son. With a look of comprehension she asked Sirius to pick up a fatigued Michael, and started toward the entrance of Diagon Alley.

At that moment someone in the crowed bumped into Sirius. "Oh, I'm sorry, I..." The man started to apologize, but seeing who was in Sirius' arms he stopped dead. "You're Michael Potter!" He exclaimed, "It's the-boy-who-lived!"

As the man drew attention to their group Lily and James shared a glance. Even though Michael's hair was black at the moment they knew getting out of Diagon Alley without being recognized was too good to be true.

As the crowed pressed in on them, wanting to get a look at the famous Boy-who-lived, James grasped Harry's hand even tighter. All of a sudden a large man ran bodily into him, and knocked James down. "Hey!" He exclaimed, "Watch where you're going! There are kids here!" Remembering his son he got to his feet and went to grab Harry's hand again. It was then that he noticed his son wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Harry!" He yelled look around. "Harry! Harry Potter!"

James was quickly getting frantic and the heavy feeling in his stomach was growing. He didn't see any sign of his son and Harry wasn't one to run off. "Harry!" His hands began to shake as he quickly searched the area. The crowed was thinning now, and his yells were drawing the attention of his wife and friend.

"James." Lily questioned, "Where's Harry?"

"I...I, don't know." He stammered, still looking around. "He was holding my hand. We got knocked down and when I got up, he was gone." At his statement her face drained of all color and like her husband started to yell for her son.

A few minutes passed without any sign of their eldest. Seeing the worried look on his other son's face he knew he had to get him out of there. Turing around he grabbed the red head's arm, "Lily," he instructed his crying wife, "You need to take Michael and go home. Sirius will stay here and help me."

Seeing that his wife wanted to object he interrupted her, "Lily, you are barely in control, and Michael shouldn't be here. Go home." He hated what he had to say but continued anyway, "If we can't find him soon we will call the Aurors. We will find him love, I promise."

Seeing the sense of what her husband said, and trusting his abilities, she reluctantly agreed. She walked over to Sirius who still had Michael in his arms and took him, "Mum, where's Harry?" He questioned.

"I don't know baby," She replied, "But Daddy will find him, and then we will go on our picnic. Does that sound good?"

Michael just buried his head in his mother's shoulder and nodded.

James took a moment to watch his wife and son go through the entrance of Diagon Alley before he and Sirius went separate ways to look for his missing child. As he reached the end of the Alley he noticed a small red stuffed phoenix at the entrance of a side alley. Knowing what the stuffed toy was, and that it should be in his son's arms, James couldn't help but accept a dawning realization.

Harry Potter, his son, was gone.

* * *

A/N

So this is my first full story so please be patient if I haven't yet settled on a style. I am horrible when it comes to dialogue so these first few chapters will be rough and after a while I will go back and revise them. I will try to update regularly but I have a busy life so no promises.

SO how do you like? I have always been a fan of Harry potter and mistakenly named boy-who-lived twin. I never cared for the fact that James and Lilly tend to neglect Harry in most of them though. That just does not seem realistic. So here is my version where Harry is loved and taken care of just as much as his twin.

If there are any questions feel free to ask (I know I had plenty of questions and I am the one writing it). There are reasons for almost everything and though I might not have explained it fully, there are reasons and if it doesn't give anything away I will answer any questions.

So here are a few things that I should get out of the way. This is not a romance story…I might include some, but If I do it will be a non cannon ship.

There will be no slash, I'm just not into writing it, so don't ask.

Also, critiques are fine, but if it starts with "your story is crap or horrible" then you really are pathetic and need to get a life. If you don't like it, don't read it. And leaving a flame doesn't do anything for you and just gets me riled up, so for the sake of my husband, please don't.

Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed and leave a review…Toodles


	3. Shattered Peace

Courage is fear that has said its prayers.

_Dorothy Bernard_

No passion so effectually robs the mind of all its powers of acting and reasoning as fear.

_Edmund Burke

* * *

_

Shattered Peace

* * *

Moments before James Potter came to the realization that his son was gone, that same child was being thrown out of a sooty fireplace into an even dustier room. Seconds later a tall, broad shouldered man gracefully stepped out of the hearth. He seemed to take a moment to look around the room, as if expecting a welcome. When he realized no one was there he roughly grabbed Harry, and with a scowl on his face drug him out of the room.

At the tight grip on his arm Harry couldn't help but whimper, "Shut up brat," Growled his captor. "If you know what is good for you you'll be quite."

Entering through an archway the man threw the child to the floor. The room, which looked to be a study, could have once been called elegant. A crystal chandelier reflected the light from a few flickering candles, and the tall ceiling met the wood paneling with hand carved molding. Magnificent leather furniture sat on top a Persian rug that covered a hard wood floor. The look was ruined though by the layer of dust and the moth eaten appearance.

A man stood by the window, his hands clasped behind his back; at ease, as if he owned the run down house. Unlike the man who took Harry—who was more muscle then brains—his companion had a dark air about him. He was tall and lean, with dark brown hair and muddy eyes that were more calculating then not.

Seeing the face of the child, the man's eyes lit up with fury. His voice was quite, but held the promise of pain if his companion did not answer correctly. "What do you think this is Bergman? It's the wrong kid."

"Shut it Crouch," he responded angrily. "You weren't there. I couldn't get the brat. There were too many people and that blood traitor Black was holding him. I figured one was better then nothing. They still might give us what we want."

Ignoring the child, Barty stepped over Harry and stalked forward until he stood within inches of Bergman's face and whispered, "The mudblood and her husband might, but not the ministry." He pointed towards Harry as he continued, "That kid is nothing to them."

"James still has some sway at the ministry," Interrupted a third voice from the doorway. Seeing his companions glare at him for interrupting, he stuttered the rest, "they…they might still give us the wand if he asks. They have no reason to keep it since they believe our Lor—lord to be gone."

At his reasoning Crouch seemed to get even more furious, "Shut up rat. You have no idea what you are talking about. The Ministry might believe that, but not Dumbledore. He will _advise_ them not to do it. And since we only have the-brother-of- the-boy-who-lived they won't listen to any demands."

* * *

When Harry had felt the man grab him in Diagon alley he didn't know what to do. His father had told him to hold on tight but the man had knocked his father down and he couldn't keep holding his hand. Now the large man had a hand over his mouth. He had tried to scream but the man had hit him on the head. By the time he wasn't so dizzy he was being thrown into a fireplace. The man said something with a voice like his muggle friend Cormac's, and though he wasn't able to hear what the man said, he was soon spinning though the floo system. Harry thought to try to get out, but by the time he as able to think of this is was too late and he was thrown out of an unknown fireplace.

The room was dark, and dust was everywhere. Harry was on his knees with his hands flat in front of him. When he landed the breath was knocked out of him so he kneeled there trying to take in air. He was finally able to take a deep breath, but due to all the dust it only caused him to go into a coughing fit. He felt the man who had sent him here calmly step out of the fireplace and after a moment headed to where he was still on the floor taking deep, even breaths, trying to keep the coughs at bay.

Harry let out a whimper when the man roughly grabbed his arm and started to drag him out of the room. "Shut up brat." He commanded. "If you know what is good for you you'll be quite."

Harry was scared. The two men in the room were arguing about something. He knew these men were bad and his four year old mind was able to process the fact that they would hurt him. His mum and dad had always said that Michael was in danger because bad men wanted to hurt him, but he was here, not Michael. If they wanted to hurt Michael then why did they take him?

He was scared. He knew his daddy would find him, but he also knew it could be a while. He didn't want the bad men to hurt him so he thought what his daddy would do.

'_Daddy is an auror, and is really brave. He fights bad men. _He thought_, I don't have a wand though, and I don't think I could fight them. Maybe I could kick them in the shins! That is what Mummy always told us to do if someone tried to grab us. So yea, kick them in the shins and then run.' _

Deciding on a plan, Harry began to pay attention to his captors and the room around him.

"The mudblood and her husband might, but not the ministry. That kid is nothing to them." The dark man said.

A third voice interrupted from the doorway, "James still has some sway at the ministry. They…they might still give us the wand if he asks."

Hearing his father's name Harry became worried. He knew that bad men didn't like his family, especially his dad.

'_What did they want Daddy to do? What if it is something bad? He always told us we should never do anything we know is bad when someone tells us to. But they want him to do something bad. Why? To get me back? And what was that about Michael? Were they going to hurt him too?'_

Hearing the men talk about his family like they were Harry knew he had to get out.

'_Where can I run though? There is no fireplace and the door leading to the room with the fireplace is blocked by the small man who talked about daddy. I got to get out, but I can't let the bad men see me. If they do though, I'll kick them in the shins.'_

Steeling himself for what he had to do, Harry twisted slightly so not to draw attention to himself and subtly looked around the room. He finally noticed the window and seeing the tops of plants he hoped that he was on the main floor.

'_My arm just healed from when me and Michael tried to fly like the hobby's in the tree. I don't want to break a bone again, it hurt, and Mummy might be upset.'_

Looking at the window Harry thought that the latch was unlocked, and it wasn't too far off the floor so he should be able to climb over the sill.

As Harry started to scoot towards the window the third man noticed his movement.

"Ahh, Tom? Barty?" He said, pointing toward Harry, "You might want to watch the boy."

Seeing that Harry was no longer where he had placed him the Irishmen stalked towards the child preparing to kick him. Realizing that he was found out, Harry jumped to his feet and began to run towards the window. His captor was quicker though, and grabbed the collar of his green shirt and started to drag him across the room.

Remembering what he had planned to do Harry pulled his leg back and kicked the man as hard as he could.

"Aggg! You little brat." The man screamed as he fell to the floor holding his leg.

Seeing his opportunity Harry turned to the window again and ran. Before he was able to reach his escape he heard the dark man say a spell.

"Petrificus Totalus"

Harry instantly fell to the floor where he hit his head on the window sill he had been trying to reach. His hands and legs were tight to his body and all he could move were his eyes.

In anger, Bergman stood up and went to kick Harry in the head when Crouch stopped him.

"Bergman, Stop!"

"The half-blood kicked me." He retorted. "He needs to be shown his place."

"Don't worry, he will be." Crouch replied, "Just not now. We still need him to get our master's wand. Only then can we find him and do the rebirthing ceremony. Now, take our guest to his room."

* * *

Amelia Bones was the head of the Department of Magical Law enforcement and at barely forty years old she was the youngest ever. She was a stern women with a no nonsense attitude and she had worked hard to get where she was. She could only imagine how her little brother felt having his older sister for his boss. Edgar was a good Auror though, and was one of the few people that could handle James Potter. Partnering those two up was one of her best ideas ever.

At that moment the mirror that was connected to every Auror's hand held version started to glow. Picking it up she was surprised to see the face of the very man she had been thinking about.

"James. What a pleasant surprise, I wasn't expect…" Whatever Amelia hadn't been expecting James would never know because he interrupted her before she could say more.

"Amelia." Hearing the frantic nature of one of her up and coming Aurors got her attention right away.

"What is it James" She asked as she stood up in worry, "Was there an attack? Are people hurt?"

Before she could continue James interrupted her again. "They took him. He's gone."

Hearing the broken tone of her friend's voice she knew she wouldn't get the answers unless she asked specifically. "James." She started softly, "Take a breath, okay. Now, who took who? Is someone missing?"

"Harry."

"Dear Merlin."

Hearing the name of James' eldest son she knew what had happened. She sat back into her chair and put her face into her hands. After taking a deep breath she looked back at her subordinate. "Everything is going to be okay." She said, taking command of the situation; she would think about the child and the consequences of him being kidnapped later. "Now, where are you?"

"Diagon Alley."

James response was simple, but it gave her the location to send the Aurors so she was content.

"Good." She responded. "James, listen to me. I will contact Scrimgeour immediately, but I need you to stay where you are. Understood?"

There was silence for a minute and she began to wonder if he even heard her when he finally replied, "Yea, I understand."

* * *

"James Potter?"

Turing around at the sound of his name James couldn't help but feel relieved. It felt like he had been waiting on the Aurors for hours when in reality it had been less then fifteen minutes.

Holding out his hand to shake the man's hand he nodded in the affirmative, "Yea, I'm him."

"When we heard your boy had been taken Scrimgeour immediately sent out a squad." The unfamiliar Auror stated, "Can you tell me what happened?"

"We were leaving." James began. "The crowed recognized Michael as the boy-who-lived." James shrugged his shoulders like that alone answered the Auror's question. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration as he continued, "Suddenly a man knocked into me when..."

"So the boy-who-lived is really missing" A young Auror, still wet behind the ears, interrupted. James couldn't tell if the look on his face was excitement for getting such a high profile case, or horror that the world's savior was missing.

Before James had a chance to correct the trainee, the senior Auror berated the young man, "Don't interrupt Dawlish."

"Sorry sir."

"No, Michael isn't missing. Harry is." James corrected the Auror's assumption.

The Aurors looked at each other like James was saying that he had survived that killing curse and not his son. Finally Dawlish asked, "Who?"

"Harry!" James yelled. He hated the fact that everyone completely ignored his non-famous son. They were wasting time because someone had made the assumption that Michael was his only child. "My Son! Michael is at home with his mother frantic because his brother is missing."

"I am sorry sir. We didn't know you had a second son." Explained the older Auror, "We were under the impression that Michael Potter had been taken."

"No he wasn't." James sarcastically replied, "Now can we start looking for my son?"

* * *

After telling the Aurors what he knew, James left them in Diagon Alley to look for clues and see if there was any trace of Harry or the kidnappers. He headed directly to Auror headquarters to give his official statement and see if there had been any chatter in the last few weeks.

"So you did not know this man?"Asked the familiar Auror.

"I told you already that no;" repeated James for what felt like the tenth time. "I did not recognize him."

James didn't want to take his frustration out on his friend. It wasn't Frank's fault that Harry was missing and he had just been the unlucky Auror to get assigned to take his statement. He was worried though; there had been no word on his son. He was also tired, hungry, and was dreading having to break the news to Lily.

"He was tall." James explained placing his head on the desk. "About 6'2''. He was blond with short cropped hair. Broad shouldered, barrel-chested but not over weight."

Thinking about the man he only got a brief glimpse of as he fell to the ground he became angry. He stood up and quicker then either Auror could blink had slammed his fist into the table. This man took away his son, and if James had anything to say about it he wouldn't live to try it again with Michael.

"James?" Frank quietly asked, "Is there anything else that you saw? Heard?"

"He had an Irish accent." James remembered. "He was in his mid-thirties and he wore stylish muggle cloths; black slacks and a leather jacket."

"Okay, what was your son…" The other Auror looked at his notes, and finding what he wanted continued, "Harry, wearing?

"He was also wearing Muggle clothes." He answered remembering to this morning when Lily had sent both boys back upstairs to change out of the dirty clothes they had put on. "Dark blue jeans and a collared green stripped T-shirt. He had black trainers on." Thinking that was it, James started to sit back when he suddenly remembered, "Oh, and he is wearing a silver pendant of a Sphinx. We were going to turn it into an emergency portkey this weekend..."

Seeing the grief on James face as his voice trailed off, Frank reached forward and grasped his shoulder.

"Don't worry, James." He consoled, "We'll find him."

James only nodded, hoping that his friend was right.

Getting a hold on his emotions James looked at the other Auror, "Any thing else that you need?" He asked, hoping the answer was no so he could start making a list of those who would want to take Harry.

"Yes." He responded as he pulled a picture out of an envelope. Looking closely at it James saw that it was the picture that sat on his own desk in the DMLE. "We need to know if this picture is up to date."

Looking at the picture James could remember vividly the day the picture was taken. Remus had gone with the four of them to the park and the boys wanted to feed the ducks. Somehow James and Michael had ended up in the water while Lily and harry were sitting together on the shore laughing. James had many pictures on his desk, but the reason the Auror's grabbed this one was because it had a strait shot of Harry's smiling face.

"Yea, it was taken last month."

"Good." Replied the Auror, "If we are done I am going to have to ask you to go home."

Not sure that he heard his superior correctly James stood up from his chair. "What!" He demanded, "I want to help, I need to help."

James would have continued to argue his case if Frank hadn't stepped in, "James, you need to go home to Lily and Michael." He reasoned, "You are too emotional; you will only get in the way. I'm sorry James, but we can handle this."

* * *

When Crouch told Bergman to take Harry to his room Harry had no idea what to expect. The glimpse of the room he got before the door slammed shut, leaving him in complete darkness, was not promising. The room was about five feet by five feet; smaller then his mother's pantry at home. There were no windows and the wallpaper covering the walls was peeling and covered in grime. There was also not a single piece of furniture. Harry was not normally afraid of the dark, but even this oppressive dark was trying his resolve.

Lifting his hand in front of his face Harry hoped that he would be able to see his hand. He was disappointed when all he saw was blackness. Carefully, with his hand still in front of his face, he took a step towards the door. When he finally felt the grain of the door he took his little fists and pounded.

"Help!"

* * *

"It has been four days!" Barty Crouch hissed pacing back and fourth across the room, his hands once again clasped behind his back, "They aren't going to give us the wand. I told you this wasn't going to work."

"I'm just saying that we could send another message. Maybe send his parents a recording of him."

Bergman was desperate. When he couldn't get Michael Potter in Diagon Alley that day he had grabbed the boy hoping the Ministry would still give them what they wanted. How was he to know that Albus Dumbledore would convince them not to? Being a half-blood, he needed this to work. If he ever wanted any status within the deatheaters then he needed to win the favor of their lord.

"The kid is not important enough," Crouch replied. "Now that Dumbledore has stepped in they won't think about giving us the wand."

Getting sick of Crouch's pacing, he yelled, "Would you stop that! Your pacing is driving me crazy."

At his words, Crouch turned his cold eyes towards his partner and pulled out his wand; before he could respond Bergman held up his hands in a placating manner and continued, "I'm sorry, okay." He conceded before continuing, "I made a mistake, but before you start complaining and blaming me you should try snatching the brat."

"Why you filthy half-blood...." He spat, but was interrupted from cursing Bergman by their third companion asking a question.

"What are we going to do now?" he asked, "We just can't keep the boy locked in the room."

"We will give them till tomorrow." Barty Crouch continued, "Then we will cut our losses."

"You mean kill the kid." Bergman had no qualms about killing children, he just wasn't sure he wanted to give up so soon.

"No, invite him to afternoon tea." Barty sarcastically replied. "Of course I mean kill the kid. We'll dump his body in the channel with a time delayed location charm. That should get the traitors attention."

As Barty Crouch made the decision to kill Harry the third conspirator began to doubt. He may have helped kidnap the boy but he didn't want to kill the child of the man who he once loved as a brother. Peter Pettigrew was once trusted by James, but he betrayed the Potter's when he gave their secret location to Voldemort three years ago.

Wormtail had made his decision; he knew this. He had betrayed his best friend and one of the only people to ever give him any attention. When Lucius Malfoy had come to him all those years ago he wanted to reject him, but he couldn't. He knew what Lucius Malfoy was capable of. He threatened to kill him if he didn't pass Voldemort information, and though he knew he should have died then betray his friends, he wasn't strong like them. He didn't want to kill James' son though. If he spoke up, or helped Harry in any way however, they would kill him. They hated him as it was, so it wouldn't be much of a loss for them. He had to think of something though, it was the least he could do.

* * *

Wormtail wondered how Harry had fared. Though he hadn't been hurt, he had been locked in a pitch black room for five days. At first the child had yelled for help while he pounded on the door. When he finally realized that no one was coming he settled down for a while. After the second day the screaming started. After another day of the terrified crying the room was silent. Peter knew the child was in bad shape. He had only had water twice in the past 5 days and was probably traumatized. He knew he had to work quickly though, regardless of the boy's condition; Barty and Tom had gone out for drinks before returning to kill Harry leaving Pettigrew alone with the child.

Opening the door he squinted into the darkness and could see the huddled form of his former best friend's child. Kneeling in front of the boy he took his hand and lifted him from the floor.

"Come on Harry." He quietly whispered, "I'm going to get you out of here, and we need to go before Barty and Tom get back."

"Why are you helping me?" Harry questioned. His voice was harsh from little water and lack of use after screaming it raw. "You were mean to me and you want to hurt Michael."

The tears were heart wrenching and Peter couldn't help but answer. "I don't want to hurt your brother, I have no choice though. They would have killed me if I didn't help them."

After a few moments of silence where Wormtail had pulled harry though numerous corridors, he continued. "The ministry won't give us what we want though, and Barty doesn't think you are worth the effort anymore. They want to kill you, but I don't, so I am going to help you escape."

Hope seemed to rise in Harry at the man's statement. He had hated being in that dark room, and he wanted to see his mummy and daddy. He had thought this man was bad, but now he wanted to help him, so he would let him.

"I'm going home? I get to see my mummy and daddy again?"

At his innocent question Peter couldn't help but flinch. He didn't want the child to die but if the others found out he helped him escape he would be dead. He thought he had a plan to get around this, but if it worked Harry would never see his family again. He would be alive though, and it would be one less atrocity on his conscious. Not knowing what to tell the child he just made a shushing motion, "We need to be quite or someone will find us." He explained. "So no more talking, okay?"

Wanting to escape from the mean men and the dark room Harry easily agreed and followed Wormtail out the back door that they had finally reached. Once exposed to the outside air Harry began to shiver. The day of his birthday had been warm with no need to wear a coat; the evening air however, was cold and wet. Harry could tell they were on the coast and near what looked like docks for large ships.

Harry followed his guide down the hill that led to the water and entered a gate with a sign that read _De Luca Shipping Co._ They headed for a large metal building where the man took out his wand and unlocked the door. Keeping his wand in hand they entered the building which Harry could see was filled with lots of crates with the word Italy stamped on the side.

Wondering how they were going to get away Harry asked the first thing that came to his mind. "Are you going to make a portkey to take me back home?"

"Something like that." Peter replied. At that moment he was distracted by opening a crate and looking in before sealing the lid again and opening another. After the third crate he seemed to find what he wanted and turned back around to Harry. "Come here boy, I want to show you something first."

Cautiously, Harry walked over to Peter. He had no idea what to expect and looking into the crate all he could see was yellow shipping grass which filled only half the crate. Lifting his green eyes to his savior he wasn't prepared for the wand pointed at him.

"I am sorry Harry." Harry wandered what he could be sorry for when a bright light washed over him and he knew no more.

* * *

When Peter apologized he wasn't ready for the pleading look in the boys eyes, especially when he knew what he was about to do. He knew that if he did not do this his life would be forfeit though. He mustered up his resolve, and with his wand pointing at the boy's forehead he said the spell that would save him.

"Obliviate."

* * *

A/N

So can anyone guess what Wormtail did next? I hope it is obvious because I'm not going to tell you until a few chapters. If you don't know and want to guess and receive a positive or negative response then you better review.

Oh yea, don't expect updates this quick to continue. I have been writing like crazy trying to get the beginning of this on paper. I have the first ten or so chapters completely planed out and a limited plan for the next ten but non are written yet. I do have a bunch of scenes written but that is it. I almost have chapter 4 and 5 done but I am going on vacation next week and with finals and my parents coming into town for my son's birthday this week it is going to be a little busy. I'll be lucky to post chapter 4 in the next few weeks. So wish me luck. Toodles.

TimeAndRhythmDoesIndeedSleep: Wow! My first review ever. Thanx. Anyhoo, I didn't even think about it that way but you are close. In fact, I had just finished writing the last scene of this chapter when I got your review. It was kind of eerie; did I give it away that bad or are you just that good? Anyway the reunion will be at Hogwarts but not for quite awhile. Glad you enjoy.


	4. To Give Sorrow Words

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart and bids it break.

William Shakespeare

* * *

To Give Sorrow Words

* * *

It seemed to James that his family was falling apart.

The passionate fire that he fell in love with seemed all but extinguished in his wife. James had always heard that the hardest thing a parent could go through was to bury a child, but seeing Lily he knew that was not true; the hardest thing a parent could go through was believing your child to be dead, but not truly knowing.

Michael's reaction was even worse.

He had tried to explain to the four year old that his brother was not coming back, but Michael had just shook his head and told him 'that nothing could happen to Harry and that he would find his way home.'

James hoped with all his heart that his son was right.

"Daddy?"

At the questioning voice of his son James stopped and turned around to look at his child. Seeing his face set in a somber expression he walked to his bedside and knelt down to his level.

Though he dreaded what could be on his son's mind, he also couldn't help but wonder.

"Yes Michael?"

"Do you know where Harry is yet?"

It was an innocent question, simple even, but James knew there was no simple answer.

"I don't know Dragon." He finally replied as he brushed the hair from Michael's eyes. "But we'll find him."

"Good." Michael bobbed his head with a childish reply, "because we never got to go on our picnic. And I want to show him the new hobby that is in the tree. Harry likes the birds, but I don't think it will like Harry. None of the animals do."

Michael said this so serious that it was hard not to laugh. He was right though. Harry might love all the animals that Michael brought home, but they didn't like him. James personally thought that while Michael was gifted with animals, Harry was cursed.

"I'm sure he would like to see the hobby." James replied, "But you, young man, need to go to bed now."

Giving Michael another kiss on the forehead James stood to leave when his son gained his attention once more.

"Daddy?"

"Yes Michael?"

"I don't like sleeping alone." As his child's statement James couldn't help but look at the empty bed across the room. Since his son had disappeared he had barely looked at Harry's possessions in fear of breaking down; with Lily in a state someone had to stay strong for Michael.

"I know you don't son." He replied after a long moment. "Why don't we leave the door open so you don't feel alone?"

"Okay" Michael quietly agreed, "And, if Harry comes home he can come right to bed."

Not knowing how to reply to his son's confidence James just bit his lip and silently nodded.

It had been eleven days since Harry first went missing and a week since a simple piece of parchment had taken away their hope. The black, elegant writing simply said, "Your time has run out. He is dead."

Lily broke down when she read it, and she could still be heard sobbing unexpectedly throughout the day. He wasn't much better. He had refrained from breaking down in the day time where Lily or anyone else could see him, but during the night he did not have such a luxury. When he did not have Michael or his wife to occupy his thoughts it seemed that everything reminded him of his son. At night he would sit alone in his office with the fire's embers casting a warm glow across the room. It was in these moments, nursing a glass of scotch, that he would stare at the stuffed phoenix and cry over his lost child.

Right now though his wife was still awake and he needed to comfort her. As he opened the back door the melodic sounds of his wife singing reached his ears.

Ooooo oooooo ohoohohoo  
Ooooo ohooohoo oooohoo  
Ooooo ohoohooo oohoooo  
Somewhere over the rainbow  
Way up high  
And the dreams that you dreamed of  
Once in a lullaby ii ii iii

Taking a step onto the porch he could see her now. She was sitting on the back steps; the same place she sat every night since Harry had went missing. She had her guitar in her arms and was playing a familiar tune. It was Harry's favorite.

Somewhere over the rainbow  
Blue birds fly  
And the dreams that you dreamed of  
Dreams really do come true ooh ooooh  
Someday I'll wish upon a star  
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me ee ee eeh  
Where trouble melts like lemon drops  
High above the chimney tops thats where you'll find me oh  
Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly  
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I? i iiii

Listening to his wife sing the song he couldn't help but release a few tears. He could remember many nights where Lily and his son would sit on the back porch playing her muggle instrument. Harry loved the guitar and for such a young child was quite good. The music, combined with the small fairies lighting their faces, always seemed magical. Bringing himself back to the present James wiped the tears from his face and lowered his body to sit on the step beside his wife. He continued to listen to the mournful tune as she seemed too absorbed to notice him.

Well I see trees of green and  
Red roses too,  
I'll watch them bloom for me and you  
And I think to myself  
What a wonderful world

Well I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white  
And the brightness of day  
I like the dark and I think to myself  
What a wonderful world

She had a beautiful voice. Even laced with grief as it was, he couldn't help but marvel at her talent.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky  
Are also on the faces of people passing by  
I see friends shaking hands  
Saying, "How do you do?"  
They're really saying, I...I love you  
I hear babies cry and I watch them grow,  
They'll learn much more  
Than we'll know  
And I think to myself  
What a wonderful world (w)oohoorld

The fairies had finally come, and while only seconds before he could only see shadows he now saw her red rimmed eyes and the tears that ran down her cheeks. James didn't know why she was putting herself through this. He knew how difficult singing Harry's song was. She kept singing though, hoping that wherever Harry was he would hear her and know she loved him.

Someday I'll wish upon a star,  
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me  
Where trouble melts like lemon drops  
High above the chimney top that's where you'll find me  
Oh, Somewhere over the rainbow way up high  
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I? I hiii?

Ooooo oooooo oooooo  
Ooooo oooooo oooooo  
Ooooo oooooo oooooo

Lily finally released the last note and gently placed the guitar on the ground beside her. Not knowing what to say he finally settled with something simple and mundane. "Michael is asleep." He told her, "He should be out for the night."

His wife nodded absentmindedly, not really hearing what her husband had said.

"Lily, we need to talk."

James voice was so soft she could barely hear him, but the pleading in his voice did draw her attention.

Relieved that she was finally looking at him, he began with what he had been meaning to say for days, "Lily, it's been a week, you…"

What ever James was about to say he never got to finish because Lily rose up in anger and growled, "My _son_ is not dead James Potter," she punctuated her words by hitting her husband on the chest with her fists. "I would know if he was dead. So don't you dare tell me to get over this."

Knowing Lily needed to get the anger out of her system James stood and let the abuse happen. When she seemed to be running out of energy he finally grabbed her wrists and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm so sorry love." He didn't know what else to say to the grief stricken mother.

"You promised James, you promised you would find him and now he is gone." Listening to her grief filled words all James could do was hold her tighter and finally let his own grief be seen.

* * *

A/N

So yea, I know it is short and a big chunk is the song but it had some important information in it and adding more just seemed wrong. So I hoped you enjoyed and will leave a review. Toodles!!

For those of you who recognized this version of "Over the Rainbow it is by Israel Kamakawiwo Ole' but is based on the original lyrics by E.Y. Harburg


	5. TheBoyWhoLived

Life is either a daring adventure or nothing. Security does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than exposure.

Helen Keller (1880 - 1968)

* * *

The -Boy-Who-Lived

* * *

Michael Potter's life had not been easy; having a homicidal maniac after your blood tended to make any one's life difficult. It was more then that though. A Potter curse perhaps, but it seemed like no matter how hard he tried trouble always seemed to find him. Sirius once told him that it was the same way with his father, but he wasn't quite so sure that his dad had it as bad as him.

No one ever said being the boy-who-lived would be easy. In fact, Michael could easily remember the discussion his parents had with him before he left for Hogwarts four in-a-half years ago.

_Standing in their sitting room with his trunk Michael couldn't remember being so excited. He was finally going to Hogwarts! Wanting to distract his self while he waited for his parents to get their coats Michael started to look at the pictures on the mantle. Skimming his eyes across the years of happy memories his eyes finally rested on his favorite. It had been taken seven years before and was the last family picture that they had taken before Harry went missing---he would never think of Harry as dead. Michael didn't remember taking the picture but they must have been watching a movie with Sirius and Remus because all four of the potters were squeezed on the couch and he and Harry actually had popcorn in their hair. _

_The sound of his parent's heated voices pulled him out of his thoughts and he gave his parent's discussion his full attention. They weren't talking loud but Michael had always prided himself on his excellent hearing and lowered his breathing to be able to hear them better._

"_We should talk to him James," Argued Lily. "You know how it will be for him, he should be prepared."_

"_I know Lily, I just don't wasn't to dampen his excitement."_

_At that moment James and Lily entered the room and when James looked up and saw his son standing unnaturally still he knew that his son had heard._

"_Michael," he motioned to the couch. "Sit down for a minute; we need to talk to you before we head to the train station."_

_As Michael sat down on the couch he wondered what could put such a serious expression on his normally fun loving father._

"_What is it Dad?"_

"_Michael," he started. "Your mother and I…." _

_Michael could tell that his father didn't know how to begin and his worry escalated even more with his father's all too familiar action of running both his hands through is hair. It was a Potter trait that both he and his father shared and it was an easy indicator of frustration._

"_We've tried…"James tried again. _

_Lily seeing his trouble came to his rescue with a fond smile. "What your father is trying to say is that we have tried to inform you on how the world views you." _

_She looked as if she wanted confirmation so with a nod Michael bade her to continue. "You know that the world thinks of you as some sort of savior. The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was because of you that Voldemort was vanquished and because of that every one knows who you are. Mothers tell stories of you to their children at night."_

"_The students will expect certain things from you," James continued. "They won't even know you but will either hate you or love you. If you do anything that they don't like they will turn your back on you. I know this is hard to take in, but we want you to know that whatever happens, what ever you do, we will always love you and are proud of you."_

* * *

At the time Michael didn't understand what his parents were saying but he quickly learned; from the moment he stepped off the train his peers either wanted to be his best friend or thought he was a spoiled brat. That wasn't even taking into consideration the Slytherins. During second year the point that his parents were trying to get across to him was indelibly imprinted on his mind when it seemed the whole world turned on him when they found out he was a parseltongue. Ron and Hermione stayed by him, but the rest of the school were constantly throwing insults at him or looking at him in fear.

No one had believed him either when his name came out of the goblet of fire. His family, the Headmaster and Hermione all realized the trouble Michael was in, but the rest of the school thought he was trying to show off and take the attention away for the true champion. Even Ron was mad at him for a while. Now though, standing outside the maze waiting for the event to begin, he wondered what he did in some past life to deserve all the trouble and fickle attention that seemed to find him.

He was worried. The Triwizard tournament was a daunting task for a fourth year, even one who had been in numerous life threatening situations before. It was only thanks to the tutoring that Remus had given him since he was seven that he had been able to accomplish as much as he had. Second place for the underdog wasn't a bad place to be; it wasn't in his nature to give up though; he was going to win.

Michael couldn't help but look to his left. Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum were formidable opponents but he wasn't too worried. Fleur may not be a fairy princess, but she didn't have the gumption to destroy her obstacles and Krum didn't have the wit out-think them. Cedric, who was to his right, was a different story. Like Harry, he used a combination of destruction and smarts to get through the challenges, and had first place to show for it.

By this time the sky had darkened to a deep blue and if Michael looked carefully he could just see the first stars making their presence known. The stands began to fill and the excitement was palpable. Looking through the crowed Michael met the eyes of his anxious parents, and gave a small wave. His mother smiled back while his father nodded with a grim expression. Beside his parents Sirius and Remus gave jaunty waves. He knew they were all nervous for him, Merlin, he was nervous; they still didn't know who submitted his name and to what purpose.

Pulling his eyes from his family Michael continued to look for his friends. He found them a moment later sitting about half way up the stands. Ron and Hermione were sitting side by side with the twins while Ginny sat behind them a level up. Hermione seemed to be biting her lip in nervousness while a pale Ron clutched a pair of omnioculars in his hands. Michael got their attention by waving and they returned his listlessly. They seemed more worried then his own family.

Thinking of a way to cheer them up he changed his normally dark red hair to the neon green that Draco Malfoy was sporting that morning. There were a few chuckles from the crowed but his friends only gave a small smile.

Oh well, he tried.

After what seemed forever, Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick walked onto the field and approached bagman and the Champions. Everyone but the half-giant was wearing large, luminous, red stars on their hats while Hagrid had his on the back of his moleskin vest.

At the scandalized look his professor was giving him Michael realized hair was still green. Changing it back quickly he gave his head of house a sheepish smile. "Sorry Professor."

With a slight huff she turned back to the other champions and began to talk. "My colleagues and I are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze. If you get into difficulty and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air and one of us will come a get you, do you understand?"

Michael, along with the other three champions, nodded their heads in the affirmative.

"Good then," Exclaimed Bagman with a smile as he brought his hands together with a clap. "Professors, the first champion will be entering in five minutes….off you go, then!"

As the Professors left to take their places around the maze Hagrid lingered for a minute and grasped Michael on the shoulder to wish him luck, "Good luck Michael, you'll do great."

Watching his first wizarding friend walk away Michael couldn't help but think back to the first time that he had met the half giant.

_It was August 23 and Lily and James Potter were going to go out for their anniversary for the first time in six years. Michael had wanted to stay the night at one of his muggle friends but his parents had agreed that it was too dangerous. They had barely left Michael since that Halloween night six years ago and had not gone out since Harry had been taken. They did not want to risk something happening to their son while they were not there for something as trivial as a date. _

_The couple needed to get out though. Their marriage was not in trouble, but because they had not had any time to their selves it was becoming stressed. They loved each other, and their son, too much to allow their relationship to fall apart. _

_Sirius or Remus had watched Michael a handful of times when emergencies came up but neither were available tonight so it was decided that Hagrid, their childhood friend would watch over the seven year old for the evening._

_Michael was not happy. Though he had grown up around magic his parents were very protective of him and he did not know anyone from his own community._

"_Michael!" Lily hollowed up the stairs for her son," Hagrid will be here any minute and I want you to be here to meet him."_

"_Fine," Michael yelled back, "I'll be there in a second."_

_Looking around the room that he used to share with his brother Michael grabbed the book on dragons that Remus had gotten him for his birthday and stomped down the stars. He knew he couldn't disobey his mother without getting in trouble, but that didn't mean he couldn't let his displeasure be known._

"_Don't stomp down those stairs young man!" James Potter scolded his belligerent son. "I will cancel your subscription to _Magical Pets and Creatures _AND _Quidditch Monthly _if you don't treat Hagrid with the respect he deserves."_

_Michael did pick up his feet as he finished descending the stairs but not without first quietly mimicking his father, "If you don't treat Hagrid with the respect he deserves."_

_At that moment there was a knock at the door and James went to open it revealing the largest man Michael had even seen. He couldn't help but widen his eyes as he stopped breathing for a moment. Michael prided himself on not being easily scared, but this man was HUGE._

"_Michael," his father began to introduce the giant of a man, "This is Hagrid, the game keeper at Hogwarts."_

_James placed his hand on the small of his son's back and pushed him towards his friend. "Hagrid," He began, "I'm sure you remember Michael."_

"_Of course I remember little Michael." He began as he ruffled the child's green hair, "He is quite a bit bigger though ain't he. He was such a cute little baby."With a few final instructions the Potter's kissed their son goodbye and hurried through the door hoping to make their reservations on time._

_Michael and Hagrid stood awkwardly in the foyer; Michael was staring intently at Hagrid while Hagrid was staring at anything but the child in front of him. The man kept clearing his throat and opening and closing his mouth as if to say something. The man's face was pleading with him to say anything, or to just stop staring at him. Michael knew it was rude to stare and that he could say something to help his parent's friend out, but he was mad at his parents for leaving him with this stranger so he did not oblige him._

_Finally Hagrid's eyes landed on the book that Michael still held against his chest. "So, Michael," He hesitantly began, "You like Dragons."_

_Not knowing what the large man was getting at Michael silently nodded his head._

"_I love Dragons too." Hagrid continued when he received a positive response from the child. "I've always wanted ta keep one as a pet myself, but with the law and all…"Hagrid trailed off not knowing what to say but seeing the inquisitive look in Michael's eyes he continued. "I have gone to the reserve in Bulgaria a few times though, and gave a helpin' hand."_

_At his statement Hagrid noticed a light enter into the child's eyes and a large smile spread across his face. Hours later, Hagrid and Michael, who were both animal lovers, knew they had found a kindred soul._

* * *

Bringing himself back to the present Michael could hear the crowd cheering as Bagman announced the champions and their placement.

Finally, the first whistle blew and with a final look at the crowd Cedric Diggory lit his wand with a soft "_lumos_" and hesitantly walked into the maze.

Michael silently wished him good luck.

Waiting for the second whistle to blow was excruciating. He was confident in his abilities, especially concerning animals, but the wait was still tortuous. He looked back at the crowed and caught his parent's eyes. Though they were still worried he could see the pride in their faces. He knew that whatever happened, everything would be okay. Turing back towards the maze Michael saw Bagman raise the whistle to his lips. When the shrill sound echoed around the stadium Michael took a deep breath, and with his wand clutched in his hand, confidently stepped into the maze.

The moment Michael stepped into the maze it was quite. There was not a hint of sound from the large crowed behind him or of Cedric to the front. He was utterly alone, a feeling he hadn't liked since he was four. Taking a deep breath he steeled himself and strode forward. After about fifty yards he reached a fork in the road and chose the left. The towering hedges were tall and thick and the shadows they cast made him feel as if he was underwater and rescuing Ron all over again. After a few moments a third whistle could be heard and Michael knew that Krum had just entered the maze.

His chosen path seemed completely deserted, but he knew that was not the case and held his wand aloft waiting for some kind of obstacle. Looking ahead, Michael could see some obviously placed magical booby traps. Using a diagnoses spell that had saved him much embarrassment over the years—especially living with a marauder— he concluded that if he did not touch them he would be fine. Maneuvering around the traps he thanked Sirius under his breath for teaching him that particular spell.

As the sky deepened to navy the maze became increasingly darker. Michael continued down the pathway until he reached another fork in the road. A simple "point me" spell led him to the left with the hope of finding another pathway that led to the center of the maze. As Michael continued he could have sworn that he was being watched. He kept looking behind him but nothing was there. Also, the lack of any significant threats unnerved him.

Suddenly there was a rustle in the path to the right. Michael stood his ground with his wand raised and a curse on his lips. He wasn't prepared for Cedric barreling across the path and had to divert the cutting curse that he instinctively let loose.

"Merlin Diggory!" He exclaimed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry Potter." Cedric replied with an easy smile and a swipe of his forehead. "Hagrid's Blast-Ended skrewts! They are enormous – I only just got away!"

With that Cedric shook his head and was on his way down the path to Michael's Left. Michael just shook his own head and started to put as much distance between him and Hagrid's creation. He may have been a natural in regards to animals, but those monstrosities scared even him.

He had been walking not more then five minutes when a thick fog hindered his vision. Not liking what the fog could be concealing Michael used a fairly obscure wind charm.

"Ventus magnus"

Instantly a strong wind began to blow the fog down the corridor revealing something that Michael had never wanted to see again. There on the ground lay the body of a child. The black hair and lifeless green eyes gave him away instantly.

Michael was in shock. His brother was not dead. He knew this, his family had the proof, but seeing the body of Harry not three meters in front of him Michael began to doubt.

"No…"

Michael took two steps back while shaking his head. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't how it happened. Realizing that this wasn't the truth Michael took a deep breath to calm himself. When he was thinking rationally again he realized that what was in front of him must be a boggert. Wondering how to make the horrible scene funny he thought back to what Harry had dressed up as that last Halloween; a vampire. Thinking about how Harry looked all those years ago, the child on the ground rose to his feet. Red eyes replaced Harry's deep green and as the child Vampire went to bare his fangs it was reveled to Michael the vampire was toothless. Thinking about what Harry's reaction would be to a toothless vampire Michael finally burst out laughing. The vampire ran away with his clawed hands covering his mouth causing Michael to laugh even harder. With one last chortle the vampire burst into ashes effectively destroying the boggert.

With the scene of death in front of him gone Michael reassured himself that what he saw could not be true. Thinking of the day that they finally had proof that Harry was not dead he began to relax.

_Remus Lupin, the normally composed werewolf burst through the Potter's front door without even knocking._

"_James!" He yelled as he ran through the foyer into the kitchen where he knew his friend would be on his day off._

"_Whoa, calm down Mooney" He said as he got up from his seat in the kitchen to place his hands on his friends shoulders. "Is something on fire?"_

"_Fire?" Remus stated. "No, nothing is on fire."_

"_Then what has got your knickers' in a twist?" questioned Sirius, who had been leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee._

"_I've had an idea!" He replied, pulling himself away from his friend; James sat back down at the table while Remus began to pace across the kitchen. _

_Not having a clue what Remus was talking about Sirius walked over to the coffee pot and poured another cup for his friend. Sirius ignored the silently laughing James and handed the cup to Remus. Distractedly he took the proffered cup and took a sip. _

_Not a second later Sirius was covered in coffee as Remus gave him an incredulous look._

_Now full out laughing James was able to rebuke his friend. "You deserved that paddy ol' boy." He laughed. "You know Remus hates coffee, and you took advantage of his distracted state. What type of friend are you."_

_Wiping the coffee from his face Sirius ignored the glare coming from the werewolf and replied. "I am the type of friend who knows how to get a reaction from one of his mates." Turning back to Remus he sat down at the table and continued. "Now that you have come back to your senses, tell us this grand idea that you have had."_

_Still mad at his friend Remus turned towards the counter and prepared a cup of tea. When he finished he turned back towards his friends and took a sip. _

_After a moment he finally explained himself, "I was at Gringotts this morning waiting in line to see my account manager when another client demanded to see Linroc about his Family tapestry."_

_Angry at what Sirius assumed to be an injustice towards the werewolf he exclaimed, "They took that bigoted pureblood in front of you didn't they! Remus, we have told you before that you need to stand up for yourself…"_

_Exasperated that Sirius didn't see where he was going Remus cut him off. "That doesn't matter Sirius, I left before they even had a chance to."_

_Still not understanding what Remus was talking about and not wanting this to turn into a full blown argument James interrupted the two, "What does a family tapestry have to do with anything Remus."_

_Getting back to what he originally came here for Remus replied, "A family tapestry has two settings correct?"_

"_Yea," Replied Sirius calmer then before. "My mum had one hanging up in the Study at Grimmauld Place."_

_Turning to his friend Remus inquired, "And what are the two settings?"_

"_Traditionally they show every member of the family. My dear mother had a tendency to burn off any relative who disgraced the family name, including me."_

_Hearing the dark tone in his friend's voice James continued, "They also will show the line of heirs to a particular household. It is so there is no confusion about who is the head of house."_

"_Exactly!" Remus exclaimed. "They show the heir of a household."_

"_Remus, What are you getting at?"Sirius Inquired not noticing the look of realization that was crossing the other Auror's face. _

"_Remus," James stated as he stood up and grasped his friend by the shoulders. "You are a genius."_

_With that said James ran out of the kitchen, grabbed his cloak and rushed to the fireplace with the intention of going to Gringotts and see his own family tapestry._

_Back in the kitchen Remus was left with a confused animagus who still had no clue what was happening. "Did I miss something?"_

_With a chuckled Remus just shook his head and took another sip of his tea. Sirius deserved to be lost a little while longer._

* * *

_It wasn't till later that evening that a drunken James Potter returned home with a dazed look on his face. At first Sirius and Remus had been worried about what he had found but then he grasped his wife, hugged her tightly, and kissed her more passionately then they had seen in years. Michael who had only been home from school a week was worried that his escapades with the basilisk had unhinged his father. _

_After a few minutes James was able to collect himself enough to explain to his family the idea that Remus had earlier. He explained how he had rushed to Gringotts and went down to the family Vault. It had taken him a while to find the tapestry because he had never seen it himself but after a while was able to find it. The tapestry showed every member of the Potter family and he hesitated switching the setting. Not wanting to see what the tapestry said, but needing to anyways, James finally switched the tapestry to show the line of Heirs. Harry Potter's name was listed, not Michael's. His son was not dead._

_When his Father had told them what he had seen his mother had broken down in tears and ran from the room. Though she had moved on, the wound of losing her child never fully healed. Michael on the other hand had just sat there in shock. He knew his brother was alive, he had known that for the past nine years, but now his family had proof. Harry was alive; he just had to find his way home._

* * *

Finally in control of himself, Michael once again took off down the path.

Left…right…left again…Twice he found himself facing dead ends. He did the Four-Point Spell again and found that he was going too far east. Michael turned back, took a right turn, and saw an odd golden mist floating ahead of him. He knew it was some sort of enchantment and wondered if it could be blasted out of the way. He quickly rejected this idea since reducto was meant for solid objects and this was anything but solid.

He decided to try to contain the mist and using a branch he broke off the hedge, Michael began to transfigure a large glass bauble with an opening. Michael affectively captured a majority of the mist but with dismay watched as it seeped right out as if there was nothing there to hold it.

Frustrated with his lack of results Michael was contemplating just walking though the mist when a scream shattered the silence. He instantly knew it was the Beauxbatons champion.

Hoping for a response he yelled her name. "Fleur?!"

There was no response.

All of a sudden the screaming stopped and silence once again descended upon the maze. Michael kept looking around as if hoping to see the French girl, but when nothing came of this he took a deep breath and hoped his belief that her scream had come from ahead was right. Not wanting to waste anymore time he closed his eyes and took a step forward.

Instantly his world was flipped upside down. The ground below his feet was now the ceiling and his red hair fell out of his eyes. Not wanting to loose his glasses Michael took a hold of them and thought desperately for a spell that could reverse this.

_Think_, he told himself, as all the blood rushed to his head. _Think…_

He could think of nothing. No spell that he knew of that would reverse the earth and sky. He could try to walk out, but looking at the endless expanse below him he wasn't sure that he wouldn't just fall. Keeping his eyes locked on the grassy ceiling and not at the sky below Michael steadied himself and forced him self to take a step forward.

Suddenly the world righted itself. Michael fell forward onto his knees onto the wonderfully solid ground. He felt temporally limp with shock and with relief he breathed in the smell of the grass. After a minute he was finally able to pull himself to his feet and hurried forward again.

As he ran he looked for some sign of Fleur. Michael wondered what she could have come across and if she was okay. He didn't see any sparks; and wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign. He was filled with unease at what could have happened, but at the same time couldn't help thinking, _One champion down…_

Michael had never believed himself special in regards to school; he wasn't a genius like Hermione. He also was not a great strategist like Ron, potions expert like the twins, or have a quick draw like Ginny. He was powerful though, and with a lot of dedication and studying he was one of the top students, but school did not come naturally to him. Here he was though, the Fourth champion, and he had a chance to win. He could prove to himself that he was special, and that he deserved all the praise the world gave him.

With this thought, determination filled him and he took off once again in search of the Beauxbatons champion. After a few more turns and two-dead ends Michael gave up on his search for Fleur. He had no idea where she was so he performed the point me spell one more time and backtracked until he found a path heading in the direction of the center of the maze.

Michael had been hurrying down the new path for a few minutes when he heard noises on the other side of the hedge.

"What are you doing?" Someone that Michael thought was Cedric yelled. "What the hell d' you think you're doing?"

It was then that Michael heard Krum's voice.

"_Crucio!"_

The air was suddenly full of Cedric's screams. Horrified, Michael knew he had to help him. He ran looking for a path leading to Cedric, but when he couldn't find one he used the redactor curse on the hedge separating the two pathways. After the third try there was a small enough hole and Michael forced his way through tearing his robes in the process. Before Krum had a chance to look up at the interruption Michael yelled "stupefy!"

Krum fell to the ground beside a kneeling Cedric.

Running to his side, Michael helped the panting Hufflepuff to his feet.

"Are you all right?" Michael asked.

"Yeah," breathed Cedric. "Yeah…I don't believe it…he crept up behind me…I heard him, I turned around, and he had his wand on me…"

Michael didn't know what to think. He knew Viktor was competitive, but he never believed that the Durmstrang student would stoop to use an unforgivable to win a race. Viktor had to have known that it was a life sentence in Azkaban. Everything about this seemed wrong.

"I can't believe this…I thought he was all right." He finally said, staring at Krum.

Remembering the scream from earlier and wondering if they were tied together Michael asked, "Did you hear Fleur scream earlier?

"Yeah," replied Cedric. "You don't think Krum got to her too?"

"I don't know," replied Michael slowly. And he didn't. Krum didn't seem like the type to do this. He trusted his instincts, but more importantly he trusted Hermione, and she trusted Viktor.

After a moment Cedric muttered, "Should we leave him here?"

"No," decided Michael. "We should send up red sparks. Someone will come and collect him… otherwise he might be eaten by a skrewt."

"He'd deserve it," Cedric muttered under his breath, but all the same he raised his wand and shot red sparks into the sky.

It was an awkward moment. The final two champions standing across from each other over the unconscious body of another champion. For a moment they had been united, but they both knew they were still opponents. Michael knew that one day he would laugh at the predicament, but at the moment he had no clue what to do. They stood in the darkness looking around for another moment when Cedric finally said, "Well…I s'pose we'd better go on…"

"What?" said Michael momentarily confused, "Oh, yeah. Right…"

The two champions began forward and at the first fork they separated; Michael turning left and Cedric turning right.

* * *

It seemed like hours since Michael had entered the maze and knowing that it was only between him and Cedric made him even more frustrated. He knew he was getting closer to the center of the maze but he wasn't sure if he could get there before Cedric did.

Suddenly there was movement in front of him and he slowed his pace to prepare for whatever obstacle lay before him. As Michael approached his wand light lit the magnificent form of a creature he had only seen in pictures.

His breath was taken away. Not more then four meters in front of him was a Western Sphinx. It had the body of an over-large lion; complete with great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending in a brown tuft. Its head however, unlike the Eastern sphinx that his brother had been so fascinated with, was that of a women. She stood proud, regal even, as if what she was guarding was not a dark path, but the tomb of an ancient king.

As Michael took another step forward the creature stopped mid pace and turned her long, almond-shaped eyes to him. She was not crouching as if to spring, but Michael couldn't help but be wary of a creature he knew was dangerous. Amid all his worry though he couldn't help by smile thinking about what Harry would have given to see a real sphinx, even if the head was that of a women.

"You are very near your goal." The creature's statement startled Michael and wiped off the small smile that had found its way onto his face. "The quickest way is past me."

"What is it that you would have me answer then?" Michael knew that she would only move if he answered a riddle for her. He had to admit he was scared. He knew he could figure things out when he applied himself, but he was never a natural at puzzles, that was Harry's, or even Hermione's thing.

"A simple riddle, young human." Was the creatures reply. "Answer on your first guess---I let you pass. Answer wrongly---I attack. Remain silent---I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

Michael knew all this, but looking at her sharp claws he was still scared. He weighed his chances. If the riddle was too hard, he could keep silent and try to find an alternative route to the center. If he was able to figure out the riddle though, he would be that much closer to the finish. Making up his mind, Michael looked to the sphinx and gave his reply.

"I'm ready," he said. "Let me hear the riddle."

The sphinx sat down upon her hind legs, in the very center of the path, and recited:

"_First think of the person who live in disguise,_

_Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies._

_Next, tell me what's always the last thing to mend,_

_The middle of middle and end of end?_

_And finally give me the sound often heard_

_During the search for a hard-to-find word._

_Now string them together, and answer me this,_

_Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?_

Michael could do nothing but gape. He had no clue where to begin and was confused about what she was even asking. Taking a deep breath he asked the creature to repeat the riddle once more.

"A creature that I would be unwilling to kiss?" He thought aloud. "That is the question you are asking."

Michael cast his mind around for a moment and then thought about what the beginning of the riddle said.

"The first part is the answer isn't it?" This time he directed his thoughts towards the creature but she just gave him her mysterious smile and continued to watch him.

"The person who lives in disguise, who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies" Michael repeated as he paced back and fourth much like the sphinx had a few minutes prior.

"An imposter?" he thought aloud before rejecting his own idea. "No, doesn't quite fit."

After another moment Michael's face lit up and exclaimed, "A Spy!"

"A person who lives in disguise and tells nothing but lies is a spy." Michael finally settled not believing he was able to even get a small part of the riddle. He knew he was not done though and so started to concentrate on the rest of the riddle.

"What's always the last thing to mend, the middle of middle and end of end?" Michael recited before throwing his hands up in the air. "Well, that makes no sense."

Michael knew he was running out of time and couldn't help but run his hands through his hair in frustration. He finally decided to leave that part of the riddle for last and skip to the end.

Michael silently repeated the last part of the riddle,_ the sound often heard during the search for a hard-to-find word._

"Err" was the only thing that escaped Michael's lips.

Shaking himself out of his daze Michael thought about what that line actually meant.

"Okay, I'm looking for a sound that someone makes when they have no clue what to say."

It was only after he said that out loud that Michael realized he had already made the sound. He could have kicked himself in the arse if he wasn't in such a hurry.

"Err, that is the sound you are looking for." He stated in the direction of the sphinx.

The creature just smiled.

"Spy…Err…Spy…Err…Spider!" Michael yelled turning toward the sphinx once again. "The creature I wouldn't want to kiss is a spider!"

The Sphinx silently got up, stretched her front legs and moved to the side allowing Michael to pass.

"Thanks!"Yelled Michael as he ran past, amazed at his own brilliance. He was close, he knew he had to be, and as long as he didn't run into anything too horrible he had a chance to win this thing.

Up ahead there was a fork in the road and without even slowing down he whispered "point me." His wand pointed to the right-hand path. As he continued up his chosen way he saw a light, and there, about 15 meters in front of him, was the Triwizard cup. Suddenly a dark figure hurtled out onto the path in front of him.

It took a moment but Michael soon realized that the dark figure was his Hufflepuff competitor. Cedric was going to get there first; he was sprinting as fast as he could toward the cup and he was closer. Michael would never make it in time. Cedric would win. It was during this realization that Michael saw something over the top of the hedge to his left. It was immense and moving to intercept the path that he was on. Cedric, his eyes only on the cup, did not see it.

"Cedric!" Michael yelled. "On your left!"

Cedric looked up just in time to fling himself past the creature but in his haste tripped and lost his wand. He was not able to move quick enough to get away as the monster descended on him.

From behind, Michael could tell that the creature was one of Aragog's children and that did not bode well for the Hufflepuff who was defenseless on the ground.

Not really thinking, Michael raised his wand and fired the first spell he could think of at the giant spider.

"Stupefy!"

For a moment Michael wasn't sure the spell did anything.

The spider stilled and then twitched. Michael suddenly realized that he might as well of thrown a rock at the creature because in the next moment the spider scuttled around and was bearing down on him instead.

"Flipendo! Impedimenta! Conjunctivitis!" Michael frantically cast the first spells he thought of that could do anything to the monster but it was no use. The spider was either too large or too magical, that the spells were doing no more than aggravating it. Michael had one horrifying glimpse of eight shining black eyes and razor-sharp pincers before it was upon him.

Michael struggled madly as he was lifted into the air in its front legs. He tried to kick it but his leg connected with the pincers and next moment he was in excruciating pain.

He could hear Cedric yelling "stupefy", but his spell had no more affect then Michael's had. Gritting his teeth against the pain Michael raised his wand as the spider opened its pincers once more and shouted "Expelliarmus!"

It worked. Michael had no clue how it worked, but it did. The Disarming spell made the spider drop him, but that meant that Michael fell twelve feet onto his already injured leg which crumpled beneath him. Without pausing to think, he aimed high at the spider's soft underbelly and shouted "Stupefy!"

At the moment Cedric yelled the same thing. What one spell could not, the combination of spells did, and the spider keeled over sideways.

Michael, who was laying on his back taking deep breaths, couldn't help but thank every deity he had ever heard of that the spider did not fall on him. As it was, the path was strewn in a tangle of Hairy legs and he couldn't see Cedric over the mass.

"Michael!" he heard Cedric shouting. "You all right? Did it fall on you?"

"No," Michael called back, panting. Michael didn't even have to tell Cedric that his response was in answer to both his questions. His voice was weak enough that anyone could tell that Michael was in bad shape. Finally he was able to push himself up onto his elbows and look down at his leg. It was bleeding freely and there was a thick substance where the spider tore his robes. If he wasn't careful he would get an infection.

Michael tried to get up but his leg was shaking too much and would not support his weight. He leaned against the hedge, gasping for breath, and looked around.

He finally caught sight of Cedric, not feet from the cup, and wondered why he hadn't taken it.

"Go on." He insisted, "Take the cup. You earned it."

Cedric didn't move though. In fact, after a moment of hesitation in which he looked longingly at the cup, he took a step towards Michael and away from the prize.

"You take it." He said. "You should win. That is twice you've saved my neck in here."

"That is not how it is supposed to work." Michael said. He felt angry; he was in pain, and after all of his efforts Cedric had beaten him to the cup. "The one who reaches the cup first wins. That's you. I'm telling you I am not going to be winning any races on this leg. So take the cup."

Shaking his head, Cedric took a few more steps toward Michael and the stunned spider.

"No."

"Stop being so noble," Michael said irritably. "Just take it already. Then we can get out of here."

Cedric continued to watch Michael struggling to stay standing. He was biting his lip as if in great contemplation. Finally he spoke up again. "You told me about the dragons. I would've gone down in the first task if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"I had help on that too," Michael snapped, trying to mop up his bloody leg with his robes. "You helped me with the egg, we're square."

"I had help with the egg in the first place," said Cedric.

"We're still square," Michael replied while testing his leg gingerly; it was sprained form when the spider had dropped him and still shook violently. "You should've got more points on the second task," Cedric Mulishly stated. "You stayed behind to get all the hostages. I should've done that."

"I was the only one who was thick enough to take that song seriously!" said Michael bitterly while also thinking about Hermione telling him that he had a hero complex. "Just take the cup!"

"No"

Michael was getting frustrated with Cedric. He had earned the cup fair and square and he just wanted to get out of the maze so Madam Pompfrey could look at his leg. Cedric had another idea though and took a step over the spider's legs to stand next to Michael. The Gryffindor just stared at him. Cedric was walking away from the type of glory that Hufflepuff had not seen in centuries.

"Go on," Cedric said looking as if this was costing him every ounce of resolution he hah. His face was set though and his arms were folded; he seemed decided.

As a Hufflepuff, Michael knew he would not be able to change Cedric's mind. He looked from Cedric to the cup and for a moment could see himself emerging from the maze to the proud faces of his parents. The picture soon faded and was replaced by Cedric's shadowy, stubborn face.

"Both of us," Michael finally said.

"What?"

For a moment Michael enjoyed the look of confusion that he had put on the older boys face, but continued. "We'll take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory. We'll tie for it."

Cedric unfolded his arms; a look of amazement graced his features. "You… you sure?"

"Yeah." Michael replied with a smile." We've helped each other out, haven't we? We both got here. Let's just take it together."

For a moment Michael could tell that Cedric didn't believe him. Then a smile broke out on his face.

"You're on," he said as he reached for Michael's arm below the shoulder. "Come here."

With Cedric's help Michael was able to slowly limp towards the plinth where the cup stood. When they had finally reached it Michael was able to balance himself on the stand and Cedric reluctantly let go.

"At the count of three, right?" Michael asked.

At Cedric's affirmative nod they both held a hand out over one of the cups gleaming handles and Cedric began to count.

"One…Two…Three…"

Michael and Cedric both grasped a handle.

Instantly, Michael felt a jerk somewhere behind his navel. His feet had left the ground and he could not unclench the hand holding the Triwizard Cup. It was pulling him onward in a howl of wind and swirling color, Cedric at his side.

* * *

A/N

WOW, that was my longest chapter ever and almost doubled my word count. Oh, well, I wouldn't get used to such long updates though, I had a guide to follow for this chapter and since this should be the only chapter that happens almost exactly like the books it most likely wont happen again for a while.

So I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and got some new insight into Michael. Most of the dialogue in the maze was from the Goblet of Fire so don't sue me for plagiarism.

The flashback with Hagrid was a complete surprise for me but included information that I wasn't sure how I was going to incorporate. First of all it reinforced Michael's love of animals and mostly it shows that Michael's life has been very insulated. You have to remember that going to Diagon Alley for their fourth birthday was a treat and most likely the first time he had gone. After Harry was kidnapped right under there noses it is understandable that the Potters would not take Michael again. Getting his Hogwarts supplies was the first time he had been back. Michael knew he was famous and what for, but as a child he did not understand it. The potter's kept him very segregated and other then a few Quidditch games he never went out into wizarding public.

I hope that give a little clue on why I chose the quote that I did.

So yea, I hope everything else was clear and if it wasn't just leave a review and I'll clear anything up. Toodles


	6. A New Dawn

"The first hint of dawn was sifting through the birch trees in his backyard, but the view looked somehow different this morning. As an odd combination of fear and exhilaration settled over him, [he] knew he had no choice."

???

* * *

A New Dawn

_____________________________

Michael had no clue how he got into these messes; he really did try to stay out of trouble; trouble just always seemed to find him. When the Gryffindor first recognized the feeling of a portkey he tried to pull away but he knew it was fruitless. After a moment that felt like an eternity Michael felt his feet slam into the ground and his injured leg gave way. He fell forward and as he hit the ground Michael was finally able to let go of the Triwizard Cup. Sprawled on the damp ground Michael Looked up and voiced what Cedric was also thinking.

"Where are we?"

Looking around, Cedric just shook his head and pulled Michael to his feet.

They were no longer on Hogwarts grounds, and by the lack of familiar landscapes they were miles, perhaps even hundred of miles, from the castle. They were standing in a dark and overgrown graveyard. The black outline of a small church was visible beyond a large yew tree to their right and Michael could just make out a fine old house on a hillside that rose above them to their left.

Cedric looked down at the Triwizard Cup and then up at his young companion.

"Did anyone tell _you_ the cup was a portkey?"He asked.

"No."Michael answered while looking around the graveyard. "No one said anything about there being a portkey."

Michael was nervous. The graveyard was completely silent and slightly eerie. But something else was off; there was magic in the air that Michael knew did not come from the portkey. He also had the strange feeling that he was being watched again. Shaking off the feeling he turned back towards Cedric to ask a question, "Is this part of the task you suppose?"

"I dunno," was the Hufflepuff's response. Michael thought he sounded slightly nervous. "Wands out, d'you reckon?"

"Yeah," Michael replied, glad that Cedric had not noticed that his wand was already at his fingertips.

Looking around through the darkness Michael wondered if they should just grab the cup and head back to Hogwarts; if this _was_ part of the task then they had been there long enough. He was about to make a comment to Cedric when he heard a slight rustle to the left.

"Someone is coming," He said suddenly.

Cedric looked at the Gryffindor incredulously but Michael just nodded his chin in the direction in which he could now see movement. Squinting, they could just make out a figure approaching their position through the darkness. He walked steadily, and though his face was obscured by the hooded cloak he was wearing, he was easily identifiable as a male. He was carrying something in his arms and as the gap between them closed Michael saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby… _or was it merely a bundle of robes?_

Michael lowered his wand slightly and glanced sideways at Cedric. Cedric shot him a quizzical look. They both turned back to watch the approaching figure. He stopped beside a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them. For a second, Michael, Cedric and the figure simply looked at each other.

And then, without warning, Michael's head exploded with pain. It was agony such as he had never felt before. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. His wand slipped from his fingers as he grabbed the back of his head and laid his forehead on the cool earth. His head felt as if it was about to split open and to make matters worse the pain was only spreading. It seemed as if his entire body, his very magic, was revolting against him.

Through the painful haze Michael heard a high, cold, voice say, "Kill the spare."

"With Pleasure" said a seductively cruel voice. Then, with a swishing noise, that same voice screeched to the night, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Michael wanted to scream, to tell Cedric to run, but all he could do was clench his eyes shut and pray that this was only a dream. The sudden green light that blazed through his eyelids and the sound of a body hitting the ground dissuaded Michael of this infantile notion. The pain reached such a pitch that he thought he would retch on the ground beside him. Michael was terrified of what he would see if he opened his eyes, but he pushed through the pain and was able to force his eyes open. He turned his head and was confronted with the dead eyes of his friend.

Michael could do nothing but stare at Cedric's open, gray eyes, and before he was able to comprehend what it could mean, he was pulled to his feet and pushed forward. It was so sudden and he was so surprised that even if his leg could have supported his weight he would have fallen to the ground anyways.

"Get up, you worthless half-blood"

Turning to lie on his back Michael was able finally see who his assailant was. It was not the man that he had originally seen—he stood to the side holding the bundle of rags—but a woman in a revealing black dress with a leather bodice. He had seen her before; last year in the newspapers and even in a few old pictures that his godfather had. It was the same women that had escaped Azkaban last year, and was also the reason that the Dementers were placed at Hogwarts.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

She was sneering down at Michael and with a snarl she grabbed him by the arms and roughly pulled him to his feet. Lestrange was holding him so tightly that Michael was sure her nails had broken the skin; he felt warm blood dripping down his arm. Michael stumbled as Lestrange dragged him toward a marble Headstone and before he was forced around and slammed against it he was able to see the name upon it flickering in the wand light.

TOM RIDDLE

Bellatrix was now conjuring tight cords around Michael, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. He struggled, but she just hit him across the face with surprising strength. Regaining his bearings, Michael looked beyond his Godfather's cousin to see the man in the cloak. His hood had fallen down and had revealed a familiar face. Peter Pettigrew, the man who had betrayed his family, was checking over a massive stone cauldron that had been placed at the foot of the grave.

"You?" Michael raged, seeing red.

This was the man that ruined his family; had betrayed them to Voldemort, and then helped plan Harry's kidnapping.

Michael could remember the day that his father came home in a towering rage.

_It was early fall and an eight year old Michael Potter was enjoying playing in the leaves that had covered the backyard. He was about to head towards the house when an angry crack echoed through the yard. His father had just apparated onto the back porch and before Michael could even call out to his father James had hurried into the house leaving the back door to slam. _

_It took a lot to anger his father, and from what he saw James was in a rage. Michael was curious what was wrong, but knowing that his parents would not say anything while he was in the room, he decided to sneak to the window and listen there._

_Michael knew that his parents would be in his father's study; that is where they always _talked_._

"_James!" Lily yelled, trying to get her frantic husbands attention. "You need to calm down. What happened today?"_

_James who had been pacing behind his desk seemed to deflate at the sound of his wife's soft voice. He sagged into his chair and placed his head into his hands. "The raid was successful. There were three arrests and dozens of seizures."_

"_That is good…" Lily had no clue why James was so upset, it seemed as if they had had a good day. She continued, knowing that she was wrong. "What is so bad about that?"_

"_I recognized one of the detainees." James quietly said, "It was him."_

"_What…."_

"_Tall…Short cropped blond hair… Broad shouldered, barrel-chested… Blue eyes... Irish accent."_

_For a moment Lily had no clue what James was talking about when it dawned on her. The description he just gave was the same description he gave to Frank Longbottom four years ago. It was the man who had taken Harry._

"_Harry?"_

_James hated hearing the hope in his wife's voice. He just shook his head no._

"_He's dead."_

_Lily's face drained of color. She shook her head, and as she began to sway James jumped up and ran to her side. He helped her sit down in the chair in front of his desk and continued with is explanation._

"_Wormtail did it." He said through ground teeth. "They wanted Michael, but when Bergman couldn't get to him, he took harry instead. When the ministry wouldn't give into their demands they figured they would cut their losses and kill him. When Bergman and Crouch were out, Wormtail killed him. He didn't know why The Rat did it, he is usually squeamish, but when they got back Pettigrew had already dumped the body. Harry was gone."_

_Hope rose in Lily. She would not believe that Harry was gone. And if this Bergman did not see the body then there was still hope. Peter _was_ squeamish. "He never saw the body. Our baby could still be alive."_

"_No Love," James said, shaking his head sadly. "Where is Harry then? If Peter did not kill him then he would have freed him and we would have found him by now. Wormtail betrayed us to Voldemort, and he betrayed us again by taking away our child."_

_Sitting on the ground below the window Michael was in shock. His daddy had captured the man who had taken Harry and he said he was dead. He still felt Harry though, and his mum was convinced that he was alive also. What was he to think? Michael stayed on the cold ground against the house until his mother called for him to come in. By then there was no sign of the tears that he had shed._

…

Wormtail did pause at the sound of Michael's voice but did not look. He continued to check the cauldron and after a moment he took his wand and lit a fire beneath it.

Hearing a noise at his feet Michael looked down and saw the largest snake he had ever seen. It was circling the headstone that he was tied to and if Lestrange was leery of the massive creature she didn't show it.

Turning back to his captor Michael couldn't deny that she was once what you could call beautiful. She had long curly black hair that seemed to be regaining its natural luster. She had dark lidded eyes and a small mouth. He features were aristocratic and screamed arrogance. She was a Black, through and through. The mad shine in her eyes and cruel smirk on her face told the real story though. This woman was dangerous.

Lestrange had just finished securing the cords and looked directly at him with her deep, lidded eyes.

"Is da' 'ittle boy scared?" she cooed while running a cold hand down his cheek. "Don't worry, I'm sure my master will release you shortly."

At hearing her words Michael was terrified. Bellatrix might have been crazy, but looking at her knowing, cruel smirk, he believed her every word. Her _master_ was about to return.

With a dawning realization, Michael looked towards the bundle of cloth that he thought could have been a baby. It was stirring fretfully and as he continued to watch it his head began to sear with pain once again. He knew what was in those robes and he did _not_ want the bundle opened.

With one last smirk Lestrange drew a length of black material from her bodice and roughly stuffed it into his mouth. With a pout she patted his cheek and sauntered over to where the bundle was laid. She reverently picked it up and walked over to the cauldron that Wormtail was still fussing over.

Michael was no genius at potions – even though he loved to cook and did have some talent, being under Snape's tutelage completely ruined the subject for him – but he knew that whatever was in the cauldron was not water; it heated way too quickly. It wasn't just bubbling, but was sending off sparks as if the liquid was on fire. Steam filled the air surrounding the cauldron and he could barely see his two assailants. The movements of the robes which Lestrange now carried had become more agitated. A high, cold voice came from the robes once gain.

"Hurry!"

"I-it's ready my lord." Wormtail said in a wheezy, stuttering breath.

With one last sneer towards her companion, Lestrange began to pull away the cloak and revealed what was inside. Michael yelled, but it was strangled in the wad of material still in his mouth. The two beside the cauldron did not seem to notice.

It was as though they had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly and slimy—but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing that was in Bellatrix's arm's had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Michael had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. It's arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face was something that no child alive ever had–flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

In the glow of the cauldron Wormtail's revulsion was clearly seen, but if Lestrange felt any revulsion towards the creature, she didn't show it. For a moment, as Lestrange lifted the demon above the cauldron, crimson eyes met hazel, and Michael's world burst in a red haze of pain. It was worse then ever, and it was only after the evil, flat face – which was illuminated by the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion— vanished below the liquid that the pain eased.

The potion was hissing, and as Michael heard the frail body hit the bottom of the cauldron he wished fervently that the creature would drown.

_Let it drown_, Michael thought, his head burning almost past endurance, _please…let it drown…_

Lestrange stepped away, eyes intent on the cauldron. Wormtail was speaking but his voice shook; he seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night.

"_Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"_

The surface of the grave at Michael's feet cracked. Horrified, Michael watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Wormtail's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The surface of the water broke; it sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

A whimper drew Michael's attention back to Wormtail. He had pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs as he continued with the ritual.

"_Flesh…of the servant…w-willingly given…you will…revive…your master."_

Wormtail held his right arm in front of him. He brought his left hand above his head and gripping the dagger tightly he swiftly brought it down.

Michael realized what Wormtail was about to do a second before it happened— he closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the darkness. He heard something fall to the ground. Heard Wormtail's anguished panting, and then a sickening splash as something was dropped into the cauldron. Michael couldn't look, but even through his closed eyelids he could tell the potion had turned a burning red.

Wormtail was gasping and moaning with agony and it wasn't until Michael felt his anguished breath on his face did he realize that he was right in front of him.

"_B-blood of the enemy…forcibly taken…you will …resurrect your foe_."

Squinting down, struggling hopelessly at the ropes binding him, Michael saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Wormtail's remaining hand. Michael didn't think Wormtail was going to kill him— his master would want that privilege – but he could do nothing to prevent what was going to happen; Lestrange had tied him too tightly. He felt the dagger cut into the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Still panting with pain, Wormtail fumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Michael's wound.

Once the vial was filled with Michael's blood Wormtail staggered back to the cauldron and poured it inside. Instantly, the liquid within turned a blinding white. His job done, Wormtail dropped to his knees beside the cauldron and slumped sideways to lie on the ground; He cradled the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering; it was sending its sparks in all directions, and was so bright that Michael could not even see Lestrange through the thick blackness that the light caused.

Nothing happened…

_Let it have drowned,_ Michael begged, _let it have gone wrong…_

And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Michael, so that he couldn't see Wormtail or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air…_It's gone wrong,_ he thought…_it's drowned…please…please let it be dead_…

But then, with an icy surge of terror, Michael saw the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, slowly rise from the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from within the steam. Bellatrix, who had been anticipating her master's command, was already by his side and quickly pulling them over his head.

Finishing, Lestrange threw herself to the ground while the thin man stepped out of the cauldron. He barely spared a glance at his servants before staring at Michael. Michael couldn't repress a shiver that went up his spine as he looked into the face that had haunted his nightmares for the past three years. It was whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils… There was no denying it.

Lord Voldemort had risen again.

…

Michael was terrified. He had heard all the stories of Voldemort's first reign of terror, but it had never seemed real. Now, watching Voldemort examine his new body, it took all of his strength to keep his breathing under control.

His hands, which reminded Michael of large pale spiders, caressed his chest, his arms, and his face. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers. The red eyes, like a cat's, gleamed brightly through the darkness, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of his followers – Wormtail lay twitching and bleeding on the ground while Bellatrix had prostrated herself before her lord – or of the great snake which was once again circling Michael, hissing, or even Michael himself. Instead, Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently. Suddenly, he raised his wand and pointed it at Wormtail. The traitor was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Michael was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his crimson eyes upon Michael, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail had risen to his knees and was dragging himself along the ground towards his master. "My Lord…" he choked, "my lord…you promised…you did promise…."

"Hold out your arm," Voldemort said lazily.

"Oh Master…thank you, Master…"

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, Please…Please…"

With a sneer, Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm. He forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow and Michael saw a vivid red tattoo upon the skin. It was a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth; the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World cup. The Dark mark.

Voldemort examined it carefully, ignoring Wormtail's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see…now we shall know…" With that said, he pressed his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

Michael's magic reacted instantly, and pain filled him once again. Through the haze Michael heard Wormtail let out a fresh howl. Voldemort removed his fingers from Wormtail's mark, and as the pain lessened Michael saw that it had turned jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction replaced the contemplation that was on Voldemort's face. He straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars."And how many will be foolish enough to stay away."

….

Michael couldn't believe it. Here he was, tied helpless to a headstone and Lord Voldemort was telling him all about his family history. It was quite sad if he thought about it, but it didn't give anyone a reason to be as hateful as he knew Tom Riddle to be.

Watching his enemy, Michael couldn't help but think about the man he could have been. He had made his choices though, and Michael had made his.

Still, Voldemort paced, his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history…"he said quietly, "Why, I am growing quite sentimental….But Look Michael! My _true_ family returns…"

The air was suddenly filled with the swishing of cloaks. Every shadow seemed to come alive as cloaked and masked figures apparated to their master. They moved slowly, cautiously, as if not daring to believe their eyes. Voldemort waited silently with his chin raised, observing the Death Eaters. Finally, a cloaked man fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort, and kissed the hem of his black robes. Each Death Eater followed the first before forming a silent circle. Bellatrix, who Michael had almost forgotten about, was already standing in place. She was nothing but an obedient servant and looked on with disgust at the heap that was Wormtail, as he, as well as her master and Michael, were encircled.

Standing in the center Voldemort silently observed the hooded faces.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years…thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday…We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! _Or are we?"_

He threw back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare, to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact –such prompt appearances!—and I ask myself…why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

It was obvious that the Death Eaters were nervous, only Lestrange looked confident.

"And I answer myself," whispered Voldemort, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment…

"And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? They, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself, perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even lord Voldemort…perhaps they now pay allegiance to another…perhaps that champion of commoners, of mudbloods and muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Voldemort ignored them.

It is a disappointment to me… I confess myself disappointed…"

…

Michael barely paid attention to Voldemort's soliloquy; he was too busy running scenarios through his head. He could not escape at the moment –the ropes were too tight – but he would have a chance once he was freed. Even with Bellatrix's earlier assurance, Michael knew he would be released; Voldemort was too much of a showman not to. He was surrounded, but he knew that if he played the meek little boy for a moment then he might be able to escape through one of the gapes and back towards the cup.

A twinge in his leg brought him back to reality. _You idiot,_ he thought. _Usually_ _you might be fast and agile enough to get away, but with your leg hurt, a flubberworm could beat you._

At that moment a scream pierced the air and Michael couldn't help but feel a vicious sense of satisfaction watching the Death Eater writhe and twist on the ground. His plea of forgiveness was all but ignored and for a moment Michael entertained the thought that someone would hear the screams and come to investigate. He knew it was fruitless though, Voldemort would not carelessly torture someone unless he knew he was safe. Besides, even if someone did hear, it would only mean their death.

With the mention of Wormtail already paying some of his debt Michael returned his attention to Voldemort.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

Michael couldn't help but think that Wormtail spared loyalty to no one. In fact, Michael was sure that most of his servants obeyed Voldemort out of fear, not loyalty. There were obvious exceptions, Like Bellatrix Lestrange, but most would save their own hide if, _no when,_ Michael thought, Voldemort was defeated.

Michael was disgusted at the begging and then worshipful praise that came out of Wormtail's mouth. It seemed as if Voldemort had rewarded The Rat with a new silver arm. He knew that if he got out of this he would have to warn Remus.

"May your loyalty never waver again Wormtail," said Voldemort.

Michael wondered what he could have meant by that. He seemed to see right through his servants and Michael wondered if there was more to Wormtail's disloyalty then just returning to Voldemort out of a sense of fear.

Michael was drawn out of his thoughts by Voldemort speaking a familiar name: _Lucius Malfoy_

_Could he be speaking to his followers by name, _Michael wondered_, Is he that sure that I wont escape?_

_Lucius Malfoy…Bellatrix Lestrange_ …_.Macnair…Crabbe…Goyle…Nott…Avery_

There were even more names and Michael was sure to commit them to memory to tell his father. This was vital information if it got to the right hands.

Michael paid little attention to the faithful servant though, at least until he heard what Voldemort said next.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight…

"Yes," said Voldemort, a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Michael's direction. "Michael Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor."

The ring of death Eaters seemed to shift. Michael could tell they were confused, so was he if he was to be honest, and at least he had been here.

Lucius Malfoy finally stepped forward and voiced what all were wondering.

"Master, we crave to know…we beg you to tell us…how you have achieved this…this miracle…how you had managed to return to us…"

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Voldemort. "And it begins –and ends – with my young friend here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Michael, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The smile that the monster sent his way sent chills down Michael's neck but he would not look away.

The snake continued to circle.

"You know of course that they have called this boy my down fall?" Voldemort said softly, his eyes upon Michael, whose entire body was burning with magic, "You all know that that on the night I lost my powers and my body I tried to kill the Potter children. I thought that they were an obstacle, but now I know differently."

Voldemort turned around to face Michael, and before the Gryffindor could react, he held Michael's chin in a vice like grasp that forced him too look up into the monster's eyes. His very core exploded with pain and for a moment he wished for death. He couldn't fight, everything was at a stand still, and Michael was sure that Voldemort could see everything about him. The seconds stretched out into an eternity and then with a dry laugh Voldemort suddenly let go of Michael's chin.

"Hah," he laughed, his red eyes gleaming in the dark night, "You are nothing special boy, above average at best." With that said, Voldemort turned back to his death Eaters giving Michael a respite from the pain. He was overcome by shock not a moment later though.

"It wasn't even him that I shot the curse at first, but his brother." He stated with a cruel smirk, turning around for a moment to see the look on Michael's face. "That does not matter though, he doesn't deserve the title either; neither of the brats defeated me."

_What!_ Michael thought, _Harry survived? Dumbledore was wrong? What does he mean neither one of us defeated him? He was banished. What in the name of Merlin happened that night?_

"I must admit that the idea of a one year old child defeating me is intriguing. I can see why the world would put so much faith in this child, but that is not what happened." Voldemort was slowly pacing, hands clasped behind his back as if giving a lecture. "I will admit I made a mistake. I miscalculated a ritual; I had never done it with a living specimen before, and the magic revolted.

"I miscalculated, my friends, I admit. My curse was deflected and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah…pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it. I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than a ghost…but still I was alive; I had conquered death. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the mean to help myself…I waited…surely one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me…one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body…but I waited in vain…"

One or two of the masked wizards in the circle moved uncomfortably, only Bellatrix had her chin raised in pride, but Voldemort took no notice. He continued.

"And then, not even a year ago, when I had almost abandoned hope, it happened at last….not one, but three servants returned to me. Wormtail here, who faked his own death to escape justice, was driven out of hiding by those he had once counted as friends, and decided to return to his master. On his way he was discovered by my two faithful. Bellatrix; she who had escaped Azkaban to come to my aid, and the other; who was the only Death Eater to attempt to return me to power."

"With their help I was able to craft a rudimentary body and I was soon strong enough to travel. There was no hope of stealing the Sorcerer's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore should have seen to it that it was destroyed. But I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower…I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this –it is an old piece of Dark magic, the potion that revived me tonight –I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant…

"My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried. But the blood of a foe…Wormtail would have had me use any wizard who had hated me…as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Michael Potter's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who everyone believed stripped me of power thirteen years ago…for my magic was in him, I felt it, and I wanted it back…

"But how to get at Michael Potter? His family had renewed the Fidelius Charm…then of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup…I though his protection might be weaker there, away from his home and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of his family. And then, the boy would return to Hogwarts, where he is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take him?

"Why…the tournament of course. Use one of my faithful death eaters to infiltrate Hogwarts and ensure that the boy's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Use my Death Eater to ensure that the boy won the tournament –that he touched the Triwizard Cup first – the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a portkey, which would bring him here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is… the boy you all believed had been my downfall…"

Voldemort stopped pacing, moved slowly forward and turned to face Michael with a sinister smile on his face.

He raised his wand.

"_Crucio_!"

It was pain beyond anything Michael had experienced; even after all the pain he had endured this evening, this was a hundred times worse; his very bones were on fire and his head was surely splitting along his scar; his eyes were rolling madly in his head. He wanted it to end…to black out…to die…

And then it was gone. Michael was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Voldemort's Father. He weakly raised his head and looked up into those bright crimson eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the Death Eater's laughter.

Turning back to his followers Voldemort continued. "You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that a mere boy could have been stronger than me. I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind; Michael Potter, the proclaimed Boy-Who-Lived," he said sarcastically. "Escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing him, here and now. His death will crush the light, and after I deal with our young friend, I will finish what I started."

I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, to the snake who stopped circling and glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters stood watching.

"Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand.

…

Hours later Michael lay awake in the Hospital wing watching the Eastern horizon lighten. Standing in front of Voldemort with only a wand Michael did not think that he would ever see another sunrise, but he was wrong. He couldn't help but be grateful that he was alive. He knew he was lucky; he could have never defeated Voldemort in a real dual. His parents had always told him he was stubborn, but he never realized how true that was. He had beaten the dark Lord in a battle of will power. He didn't let this go to his head though; it was only because Cedric and his Godmother had distracted Voldemort and his Death Eaters that he was here now. He should have died.

He had never really though about Elizabeth Cornel. He knew she was to be married to Sirius and was his mother's best friend at school but other then that he knew nothing. No one wanted to talk about her; it was too painful. Now though he felt as if he had a connection to the women who had died protecting him and his brother. And he hoped that the message she asked him to give his godfather would give him some solace.

He knew though that whatever relief he gave Sirius it would be ruined by the knowledge that Voldemort was back. When he had told his parents and Dumbledore what had happened Minister Fudge had also been there. He had refused to believe a word of what he said and Michael feared what the Minister would do. The public needed to be prepared. They needed to fight.

Michael knew that his life had irrevocably changed; even though he now knew that he wasn't the Boy-who-lived, Voldemort would still be after him and the world would still look to him to save them.

Michael had always held magic in awe. It was a benign creature that was used for convenience and pleasure. He now knew differently though. Magic could do great things, but it could also be used to cause pain. Whatever new revelations that Michael had, he had already made his decision. He was going to fight, and no matter what, he was going to face it like a man.

* * *

A/N

Once again the lines you recognized were not mine but J.K. Rowling's. These last two chapters have been from the book because I wanted to show that even though Harry is not around, many things happened the same way. There was some alternate information hidden in there and I also want the reader to get to know a little about Michael. He might have a mild disposition, but he is also a Potter and they are fighters. He is not some spoiled arrogant celebrity. He might not have been raised by the Dursleys, but I still want his character to SLIGHTLY mirror the book's Harry.

And for those of you wondering when Harry is going to show up. Don't worry, the next chapter is all his.

So can anyone tell me where I got the quote from and why it has anything to do with this chapter? The first person to guess correct will get brownie points. It's up to you if you want to review or not, I am just curious if anyone will get it.

TimeAndRhythmDoesIndeedSleep: As you can tell Harry was not in this chapter, but don't worry, the next chapter focuses on him. Glad you enjoy!

Legend3881: Thanks for the head's up, I thought I had already fix all those.

Nxkris: Don't worry; you'll see plenty of Harry in the next chapter. Though the perspective will switch around, from now on I will focus more on Harry with Michael a close second. What type of harry will he be? Good question, and though I am not positive on all the details he won't be dark and he won't be cunning enough to be Slytherin. He will be powerful, but if he went against Dumbledore or Voldemort he would lose. He is Independent and has driven himself to be the best he could so he could prove himself. He is not naive and sees the world for what is it. He is NOT a super genius, he is smart, but there are things he can't grasp. Like Michael he is a top student because he has applied himself, along with natural talent in a few subjects. Hope this helps, anymore and I would give up a surprise in the next chapter.


	7. Battles to be Won

Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood...Make big plans, aim high in hope and work.

Daniel H. Burnham

* * *

BATTLES TO BE WON

___________________________________

This is what I brought you this you can keep,

This is what I brought you may forget me.  
I promise to depart just promise one thing,  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Respirare …tenere…esalare…

This is what I brought you this you can keep,  
This is what I brought you may forget me.  
I promise you my heart just promise to sing,  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Breathe in…hold it…breathe out….

This is what I thought,  
I thought you need me,  
This is what I thought so think me naïve,  
I promise you a heart you'd promise to keep,  
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Respirare …tenere…esalare…

Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Breathe in…hold it…breathe out….

Other then they rhythmic breathing of the young man the room was silent. The raven haired boy was a picture of calm; his eyes were closed, his breathing even, and his face was set in a firm, yet relaxed line. Only those that knew him well would know that he was anything but calm.

When he was younger James had been the type to hyperventilate when he was nervous. After years of practice he was able to keep it under control but right now the breathing exercise, as well as the music playing in his ears was the only thing giving him any semblance of composure.

He was freaked.

He was finally here. The Junior International Dueling Championship. It had been a tough year and he would admit there was a few times where he had doubted himself.

_James was tired. He was exhausted and he knew that if he didn't end this in the next five minutes he would collapse._ _He had no clue how his opponent was still going. He was a pureblood, and though that didn't automatically make him incapable, this dual had been going on over twenty minutes and he knew for a fact that fifteen year old Giuseppe Lombardi was not in that good of physical shape. Sure, most girls thought that he was 'molto bello', but he had no physical endurance. Yet here he was, out moving James who prided himself on his stamina. Something was off._

'What could it be?'_ he thought._ 'This isn't possible.'

_James dove and rolled to the left to avoid a nasty looking purple curse. It barely missed him and as he came up from his roll he crouched low and fired a feet binding curse._

"_Subnecto pedís!"_

_Lombardi was too close to avoid the curse, but before the ropes finished tying themselves off he was able to banish them from his legs._

"_Orfano Dal Sangue Sudicio." The Italian spat, furious that James had even been able to hit him._

"_Come on Joey, is that the best insult you can give?" James retorted. "I've been hearing that one since I was eleven._

_Giuseppe's face filled with rage and as he reached up to grasped his pendant he was wearing James finally realized what was happening. The pendent was new and every time Lombardi began to falter he would hold the blue crystal pendant. '_It's got to be what is allowing him to stay energized.' _he thought. _'It is the only explanation.'

_James still had no idea what to do. He could call a stop to the duel and make a formal accusation of cheating but knowing the feelings that the Italian judges had towards Muggleborns they would rule in his opponent's favor and James would be marked down. They may have finally let non-purebloods compete in the National Dueling circuit but that was due to international pressure, not a change of heart. The Italian purebloods still hated people like James and they made it known._

_He knew he couldn't call the pureblood out on his transgression; it would only make it worse. He would just have to get the amulet off himself. James knew that it would be guarded from summoning charms and he wasn't sure he could blast it off without killing Lombardi. _

'I wonder…'

_If he could get close enough he might be able to snatch it like he did with pocket books when he was younger. Physically attacking your opponent wasn't technically against the rules. Yes, it was frowned upon, especially here in Italy, but it might be the only way._ _James twisted out of the way of another curse before deciding on a course of action. He took the next four volleys to position himself. He rolled forward under Lombard's cutting curse and when he came up he was not more then three feet in front of the arrogant pureblood. Lombardi was shocked to see James so close and lifted his wand to shoot a stunning spell point blank._

'Da scemo stregone'_ he thought, '_Even in close quarters the only thing he thinks to use is his wand.'

_Before Lombardi could finish the spell James swat his wand arm away and used his momentum to twist his opponent around. He pinned his arm to his side and crossed his other arm across Lombardi's neck. He grasped the amulet and as he let go of the pureblood's other arm brought up his wand and used a severing charm to cut the exposed chain._

_This took less then five seconds and Lombardi was stunned. James stood no more then five feet from him; the chain of the amulet hung from his closed fist and he had a victorious smirk on his face. James was pointing his wand directly between Lombardi's eyes. _

_He went to raise his wand again but James just raised his eyebrows and slightly shook his head._

"_Non muoverti" He whispered in warning. _

_Lombardi knew he was beat. He just did not want to concede defeat to a Muggleborn. Now that he didn't have the energizing pendant he stood no chance; his lack of stamina was catching up and he felt as if he would collapse any moment. When James shook his head Giuseppe knew he was giving him a chance to finish this dual on his own two feet. Knowing this was true made him angrier though. He was better then some filthy blooded orphan. He continued to raise his wand in a last desperate attempt to defeat his opponent. James did not allow him to finish his spell. He used a bludgeoner to send him across the mat to the other side of the ring. Lombardi did not get up._

…

James went on to defeat sixteen year old Ugo D`Amico to become the first Italian Dueling Champion in _any_ category. He, as well as D'Amico went on to the European Circuit.

Throughout the school year James had fought and won over thirty eight battles. It had been a long time coming but he was here now. Two years of training and he would finally get the honor that no one said a Muggleborn could ever achieve. They were wrong though, and he would take pleasure in the look of shock on il purosangue snobs faces when he won.

James knew he would be eternally grateful to Madam Chevelle. When the Headmistress had come to him at the end of his second year he had thought she was joking. The Italian Dueling Organization had only just allowed Muggleborns to compete in the national circuit, and he had never even participated in an organized duel before.

He wasn't even thirteen yet and he didn't come close to being a duelist; he knew very few spells and his power level was nothing spectacular. Besides, he might have only been in the magical world for two years, but he knew enough about Italian politics to know that no Muggleborn would be allowed to win.

The former Duelist convinced him to give it a try and spent the last two years training him herself. She had said that his ability to anticipate things would be a huge advantage and she was right. They worked on his spell repertoire and as his power stores increased, so did his skill.

Looking at the clock James noticed it was almost 8:00. He took out his earphones and took the last few minutes to limber up. Most wizards would laugh if they saw James stretching before a duel. It was magical combat they would say, not muggle fighting. Those wizards were idiots.

Most duelers knew that using intense magic for extended periods of time put a strain on your body. On top of that, the better physical shape a dueler was in the more endurance he had. As he showed with Giuseppe Lombardi, he could out duel any wizard who didn't take physical training seriously.

James was lucky that physical combat during the duels was not against regulations; if there was one thing that he knew, it was how to fight.

_James had no clue how he got into these messes. He had just been walking back to Saint Jerome's Children's Home when he had been accosted by a group of older boys. He had nothing of value on him, but the bullies didn't seem to care. He recognized a few of the ragazzi from school and he knew that they enjoyed terrorizing the bambini from St. Jerome's. _

_He knew that today was going to be a bad day, but no, but when Madam Salvaggio asked if he was feeling ill he had to say no. He really should start to listen to his gut; it was usually right._

_Now he was running like his life depended on it, and if the coltello the leader had tucked in his waistband was anything to go by he just might be. James made a sudden right hoping to take a shortcut, but instantly realized his mistake. It was a dead end._

_The group of boys quickly followed him into the alley and when they saw that he had no where to go they began to laugh._

_James was breathing deeply and when the leader began to advance on the six year old he began to hyperventilate. The boys just laughed harder when they saw the struggling boy lift his hands as if to defend his self._

"_Come on little pidocchio! __What you gonna do?_Lo sono più grande di te._" The larger boy taunted. "Crawl to tua madre? Vuoi_ combattere?

_Hearing the ragazzi laughs echo in the alley, James couldn't stop the fury that rose in his chest. He was mad. He didn't know why the topic of parents was so sensitive to him, but it was. It was natural for orphans to be preoccupied by the thought of parents, but for him it was so much worse, and after being at the orphanage for two years it was no better. _

_He had learned something in the past two years though, and was if you didn't stand up for your self, then the bigger bambini would walk all over you for the rest of your life. James would not allow himself to be walked all over so instead of crying at the reminder that he had no parents he decided to take action as he responded to the challenge. _

"_Con piacere." He growled too low for anyone but the boy in front of him to hear. He then took __a step back, braced his feet, and ran towards his assailant. _

_James relished the look of shock on the __face of the bullo __and before he reached his target he lowered his head and rammed his shoulder into the boy's stomach. The boy collapsed momentarily and before he had a chance to regain his breath James pulled back his fist and thrust it into his now level face. _

_There was a resounding crack._

_Panting slightly, James stood tall and glared at the rest of the boys. _

"_Andate al diavolo Napoli!" He yelled._

_Looking between the furious young boy and their leader –who was now clutching a bleeding nose while kneeling on the trash strewn ground—all the boys turned tail and ran like il codardo they were._

_James took a step closer to the boy and leaned down so he was face to face with the bullo._

"_Ho un madre," he growled softly at the older boy, "E lei mi ama…"_

_James didn't know how he knew this but he did. It was like his song; he just knew it. His mother loved him._

…

That had been the first real fight James had ever been in and he could say he was quite proud of himself. Seven years in Genoa taught him some of the best lessons he had, and would ever learn. No one would ever take advantage of him and he would make a name for himself. He would not let anyone stop him. Not his own insecurities, not the Counsel of Magical Ministers, and especially not the straricchi.

When James had first received his letter from Madam Chevelle he had been so excited. He knew that there was always something different about him, but he never could have imagined an entire magical world. He would finally have the power, the ability, to prove himself. He had been sorely disappointed when he had learned the truth of his situation.

He was a Muggleborn in a country that believed he, and anyone not born of magical parents, was less then dirt. It wasn't just the attitudes of a loud minority either. No Muggleborn could hold office or even work for the government; they couldn't even vote. In fact, until Madam Chevelle founded the Milan Accademia di Magico there wasn't even a school in Italy that would accept Muggleborns. If they were lucky, like Madam Chevelle, they would be invited to another magic school somewhere on the continent.

He was here though, defying all odds. When he had won the Italian National circuit there had been an outpouring of opposition. No one could believe a Muggleborn could win against purebloods. They had accused him of everything from cheating to being too old. None of it held though, and pressure from the European Advisory Board finally allowed him to take his rightful place.

And now he would win.

When James finally saw the Australian official headed his way he was still stretching his arms while bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"This is it De Luca, you're up in two minutes so you better be on the floor." He was told.

"Grazie."

James watched the retreating back of the official and took one more deep breath. He steeled himself for this one last fight and headed towards the door. The silent walk down the corridor seemed to take an eternity. As he reached the doors leading to the arena he bowed his head and instead of praying to his own Patron Saint like he had planned, he recited a prayer under his breathe to Saint Michael.

Saint Michael the Archangel,  
defend us in battle;  
be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.  
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray:  
and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,  
by the power of God,  
thrust into hell Satan and all the evil spirits  
who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.  
Amen.

As James De Luca Stepped onto the floor of the stadium for his duel he had no clue that his prayer would be heard, not only for himself, but for another young man thousands of miles a way who might as well have been facing the devil himself.

* * *

A/N

So yeah, I know it is shorter than my last few but this just seemed like a good place to end…whenever I started to write the later scenes that I planed on including it just seemed wrong. So the next chapter will be all James (or harry) again.

I did not write the song in the beginning it is Prelude 12/21 by A.F.I. and I know the lyrics had little to nothing to do with the story but the sound is what I was going for. Every time I hear the song the preparation for a fight scene always comes to mind. Listen to it and I hope you agree.

There are a couple of things that everyone should know.

If you are Italian, I am sorry that I am portraying your country in a negative light. Italy is a wonderful country and I mean no disrespect.

Also, I am NOT a Catholic, and for those of you who are I am so sorry if I messed anything up. This will not be a religious story but since James grew up in an orphanage in Italy it seems unavoidable not to have any mention of Catholic customs. I also do not speak Italian and if I butchered the little bit I wrote I am sorry. I really did do my research but I am sure I still messed things up.

Thanks to ladyarle who helped fix some of my translations.

For the record, anything said between Italians is in Italian, They all speak English, so when they are around English speakers that is what is being spoken unless I write it in Italian. I hope that will clear up any confusion in the future.

**Here are some loose translations:**

**molto bello:** very Beautiful**---Orfano Dal Sangue Sudicio**: Dirty Blooded Orphan**---****Da scemo stregone**: Stupid Wizard**---Non muoverti**: Don't Move**---Purosangue**: Purebloods**---coltello**: Knife**---Pidocchio**: worthless thing**---Io sono più grande di te**: I am bigger/older than you**---tua madre**: your mother**---Vuoi Combattere?:** Put up a fight?**---ragazzi**: boys**---bambini**: Children**---Con piacere**: with plesure**---bullo**: bully**---Andate al diavolo: ** go to naples/Hell**---il codardo:** The Cowards**---Ho un madre e lei mi ama**: I have a mother and she loves me**---Straricchi:** filthy rich purebloods --- **Grazie**: Thank you

panther73110: Yes he did. Michael was never into the whole boy-who-lived thing so he didn't have a reason not to tell his parents. They are not going to announce it to the world though, that would just drop morale.


	8. Me Against the World

It is difficult to say what is impossible, for the dream of yesterday is the hope of today and the reality of tomorrow.

Robert H. Goddard

* * *

Me Against the World

___________________________

"Alla Purosangue furioso!"

James couldn't help but grin at his best friends toast. Anthony Rinaldo was anything but subtle and as he took another swig of his Victoria Bitter James couldn't imagine him being anything but cavalier.

"Aye!"

James' reply could barely be heard over the loud music that filled the air. His grin was obvious to his companions though. He agreed with Anthony's sentiment; it did feel good to make the Purosangue furious.

Though he wasn't even fifteen yet, the loud music and flashing strobe lights of a club were very familiar to James. This wasn't his or Anthony's first trip to a club; the perks of being magical and the son of a billionaire. Nico Luciano on the other hand had never been to a bar, let alone a club. Anthony was determined to show him the ropes.

Technically the three Italians were too young to be in the night club but with a simple glamour and a magicked cartellino di identificazione the large bouncers and beautiful bartender didn't question them. They weren't going to get sbronzo—well, James didn't plan on getting soused—they just wanted to celebrate. After all, he was the first Muggleborn to ever win an International dueling title.

"You know, Maestro Maschio is going to be peeved," Nico nervously said as he took another sip of his beer.

"Regretting sneaking out?" James asked with a smirk.

"No," he defended. "Not yet at least."

James couldn't help but laugh. What made it worse was the fact that he had just taken another sip of his VB; the scowl on Nico's wet face just made him laugh harder.

"Just have another beer Nicky," Anthony said as he gestured to a waitress for another drink, "That should make you forget."

"I don't want to dimenticare," he complained. "I just want to make it back to The Academia in one piece."

"Don't worry," consoled James. "Master Maschio likes you. He won't hurt you _too _bad."

"He might not ferita you two, but what about me." Anthony lamented as he put his face into his hands. "He is going to use me as a guinea pig next DADA class. You know he hates me."

"He doesn't hate you." Nico tried to convince the rich Italian.

It didn't work.

"He just find's you infuriating arrogant e irritante." James didn't think he could say that with a straighter face. The glare that Antony sent his way was priceless. He was proud.

Even though James was right, Nico thought James was being a right bastard; he didn't want Anthony to kill him though so being the good friend that he was he intervened.

"Maybe you _could _stop playing pranks in his class."

The youngest of the three friends was successful; Anthony's glare transferred from the duelist to Nico. Unfortunately, James couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Or maybe you could stop pretending to know everything and let him actually help you."

….

James couldn't ask for better friends. When Madam Chevelle said he could take two amici with him to Sydney he knew exactly who he wanted to take. He had known Nico since he started at the Milan Academia di Magico four years ago, but they really hadn't become friends until the beginning of his third year. Nico was a strait shooter and kept James calm when Anthony just encouraged him. He was genuine, loyal, and trustworthy, and though he might not be the most outgoing person at school, he liked to joke around and didn't take things personally.

Anthony on the other hand was like a brother to him. Most might see him as a spoiled brat, but James knew differently. He was just as insecure as anyone, but if you ever said that to his face you better have your wand at the ready. He was arrogant, prideful, and devious, but like Nico, was loyal. In a fight you couldn't ask for someone better to be at you back, and make no mistakes he would be there. He was also compassionate; he was the first to stand up when he saw any type of injustice and when he could help someone, he did.

Other then Darius Maschio, the Defense Master, Anthony was the first person James met in the wizarding world.

_He sat at the table still amazed at what he had just learned. He was a wizard. The stern mago, '_Maestro Maschio'_, he thought, was a professore at a scuola that he had just been invited to; a school that taught magic. _

_A throat being cleared distracted him enough to realize that Maschio was trying to get his attention._

"_If you are ready then we will go shopping for your supplies." He said standing up and straitening his giacca. '_A _Muggle_ Jacket'_, James thought with a laugh._

"_If you do not have the funds a trust vault will be set up for your use until you can repay the scuola. If there are any problems you should tell me now."_

_Even if James had a problem he wasn't sure he would tell the Defense Master. He was intimidating. "No sir, No __problemi__." He responded. "I have some denaro__ that I have saved but it won't be enough."_

_Darius Maschio nodded his head in acknowledgment before he started towards the alley beside the small café. James was so startled with his abrupt departure he almost had to run to keep him in sight. In his hurry he didn't see the giovanotto as he turned the corner._

"_Agg.." James yelled as he fell to the dusty floor in a tangle of limbs._

"_Watch where you're going!" The boy growled as he unsuccessfully tried to get up. _

"_Scusa! Sorry! Mi Spiace! I didn't see you." James apologized as he got his bearings and pushed himself to his feet. Before he was able to fully straiten however, he lost his balance and once again fell on top of the __ragazzo__. _

_From the left a sophisticated man hurried to the boy's side._

"_Are you all right figlio?"_

_James figured the man was talking to the other boy. '_No one would call me son'_, he thought, But was interrupted when his professore stalked back to where he was still tangled up with the other boy. _

"_De Luca! What happened!"_

_Before James could explain the accident, a woman that was with the other two spoke up. "Oh, Darius, I didn't expect to see you today."_

_In the back of his mind James wondered how the two knew each other._

"_Hello Claire." Maschio replied with a resigned sigh. "My presence here was unexpected. Maria asked me at the last moment to escort a new student." _

'Hum'_, James thought, '_She must be a professore also. I wonder if the ragazzo is a mago too_.'_

_While the teachers were exchanging pleasantries James was able to successfully scramble to his feet and pull the other boy up as well. James could tell that the boy was used to being prim and proper, and seeing his disheveled look he couldn't help but laugh._

"_What is so _divertente_?" The child demanded while swatting dust off his designer clothes._

_Through his laughter James was able to get out, "You look ridiculous. Did you know that?"_

"_I do not look ridicolo. I am a picture of perfection…." The boy's angry retort trailed off as he saw his reflection in a nearby window. James was right. He did look ridiculous. _

_When James saw the boy's lips quirk he knew he had him. He smiled wider as he held out his hand for the boy._

"_James De Luca."_

_After looking at the hand the boy took it with a smirk. "Anthony Rinaldo."_

"_Tony, huh." He said with a smirk, "Good to meet you."_

_Hearing his hated nickname Anthony could only groan. James smiled wider._

…

Sitting at the table in the back of the club James wondered what life was going to hand him next. When he was younger he never could have imagined having the life that he had now. He was an orphan, and he knew that he would be lucky if he was able to get a descent job and be able to afford a house.

He had always wanted more though. He dreamed of making something of himself; he wanted to help others, and maybe even make his parents proud. He knew that if they were still alive it probably would never matter, but it was still his dream.

He never told his keepers but he had always wanted to go off to university, but he had had no clue how to go about that. Finding out he was a wizard changed all that though.

He and Anthony still planned to go to all'università when they graduated, but he had so many other things that he wanted to accomplish also. Italian Wizarding society was so backwards that James wondered sometimes how it continued to thrive. He knew England had had it's troubles, and still did, but the blatant bigotry and legal discrimination that took place in Italy was so much worse. It was ripugnante how Muggleborns were treated. He wanted to prove to the Italian Wizarding Society that being a Muggleborn was just as good as being a Purosangue. He wanted, no, needed, to fix the system.

James was yanked out of his musing when his two friends each grabbed an arm and started to pull him to another section of the club.

"Hey!" He yelled at his friends while trying to pull his arms out of their grips.

"Quit your hollering…we are taking you somewhere fun." Nico yelled over the noise.

The sadistic grin on Anthony's face was not reassuring.

James was finally pushed through a curtained off doorway and was faced with the most awful sound he had ever heard.

Someone, who was obviously drunk, was up on a little stage trying to sing an old Metallica song. The key word was trying. It sounded more like a dying cat. Turning an incredulous look to his friends he asked, "How is listening to an out of tune Aussie fun?"

The sadistic grin was back. "Because you are next my charitable friend."

"No."

"Yes." Anthony and Nico replied at the same times. They both had matching grins.

"You can't make me." James crossed his arms across his chest with a smug look. He though he had them there.

"No, but we can blackmail you." When did Nico become so devious? He was spending way too much time with Anthony.

James decided to give in. Knowing Anthony they had something good, and he did not want to see the consequences of going against their wishes.

When the tone death Australian finished butchering the song the DJ drew the attention of the crowed.

"A loud cheer for David Christianson! That took guts dude." He spoke into the microphone as he clapped his hands. "Now, we have a couple of Italians in the house and they have promised me that their friend will be a real treat. So give it up for James De Luca!"

The small spotlight seemed to instantly find James as the room exploded in drunken cheers.

'_Why did I agree to come here again?'_ He thought, '_Oh yeah, we're celebrating._'

As he headed up to the stage James picked up a discarded guitar and set the stool down that he had picked up from one of the tables. He sat down and held the guitar in his hands for a moment trying to think of something to play. As he sat there strumming the cords he remembered his train of thought before he had been rudely interrupted.

James decided to perform a song that he had just written. It was appropriately titled Me Against the World.

We're not gonna be  
Just apart of their game  
We're not gonna be  
Just the victims

They're taking our dreams  
And they tear them apart  
'til everyone's the same

I've got no place to go  
I've got no where to run  
They love to watch me fall  
They think they know it all  
I'm a nightmare, a disaster  
That's what they always said  
I'm a lost cause, not a hero  
But I'll make it on my own  
I've gotta prove them wrong  
Me against the world

It's me against the world

We won't let them change  
How we feel in our hearts  
We're not gonna let them control us  
We won't let them shove  
All their thoughts in our heads  
And we'll never be like them

I've got no place to go  
I've got no where to run  
They love to watch me fall  
They think they know it all  
I'm a nightmare, a disaster  
That's what they always said  
I'm a lost cause, not a hero  
But I'll make it on my own  
I'm gonna prove them wrong  
It's me against the world

Me against the world

Now I'm sick of this waiting  
So come on and take your shot  
You can spit all your insults  
But nothing you say is gonna change us  
You can sit there and judge me  
Say what you want to  
We'll never let you in

I'm a nightmare, a disaster  
That's what they always said  
I'm a lost cause, not a hero  
But I'll make it on my own  
Me against the world

I'm a nightmare, a disaster  
That's what they always said  
I'm a lost cause, not a hero  
But I'll make it on my own  
I've got to prove them wrong  
They'll never bring us down  
We'll never fall in line  
I'll make it on my own  
Me against the world

As James let the music fade off to the cheers of the crowed, he couldn't help but think, '_Is it arrogant to think that I could change the world? Or at least my little part of it?'_

……

Nico had been right. Maestro Maschio was peeved. When they had entered their hotel room in the early morning hours he was standing in the middle of their room. His usual mask of cool indifference was gone and he glared at them with fire in his eyes. His arms were crossed against his chest and he held a piece of chain in his other hand. Their bags had already been packed.

"I still have a meeting tomorrow morning so I cannot accompany you back to the Academia, but don't think you are getting away with no punishment." Maschio growled. "Madam Chevelle has already been notified of you misdemeanor and will be waiting for you. _I _will deal with you tomorrow."

They were dead, well, at least Anthony was.

As the three friends grasped the length of chain they felt the familiar tug behind their navel signifying a Portkey. After what seemed like an eternity they were deposited on a marble floor.

Even though it had been near four in the morning in Sydney light shone through the open windows.

They were back in Italy

Madam Chevelle was easily spotted. Only in her mid thirties, Maria Chevelle was still young. She had long dark brown curly hair and chocolate brown eyes. She wasn't overly tall, but still commanded attention. She wore her traditional black slacks and button-up white collared shirt. Her hair was down for once, but James didn't think that meant she was in a benevolent mood. Her perfect eyebrows were raised and her hands were on her hips; she was waiting for an answer.

James hesitated for a moment before he finally spoke. "Ciao Madam Chevelle." Her cold expression didn't change. Grinning James continued, "Come on Madam, you would have done the same thing at our age!"

Though all of Chevelll's students liked her, and she had some sort of relationship will all of the children, James was by far her favorite. And though she would never admit it, he was right.

As she continued to stare down the three boys James smile finally faltered.

"Mi spiace, madam. It won't happen again."

"It better not. All three of you will have detention for a week. You will be helping Raul in the kitchen after dinner. Master Maschio will see the three of you tomorrow after lunch and you will do whatever he asks of you with no complaints. Don I make myself clear?"

Multiple replies of "Si, Madam" echoed through the hall.

"Good." She stated, finally letting a little smile form on her lips. "Anthony, Nico, why don't you go up to the dorms and sleep, you look tired."

Anthony and Nico didn't worry about why Madam was dismissing them and not James, everyone who how she felt towards the green eyed orphan.

Maria Chevelle was one of the few people Anthony Rinaldo always showed respect to. "Si, Madam." He replied as Nico nodded his head.

"A presto."

"Buonanotte"

James just waved at his two friends ascending the stairs. Once they were out of sight he turned to his mentor. With the first smile that he had seen form her all night she enveloped him in a hug.

"Congratulazioni." She whispered. "I am so proud of you."

"I know, I just wish there was someone else to be proud of me, you know? Someone to write home to."

With a sad smile Madam Chevelle released him and shooed him off to bed. As James headed towards the upper levels he couldn't help but think about his first memory; the day he had been found.

_He was floating in a sea of darkness. He knew he shouldn't be scared of the dark, but he was. In a panic he willed himself to wake up. As he became more aware he noticed three things: One, there were two people talking near him but he could not understand them; two, behind his closed eyelids there was a bright light; and three, he _hurt_._

"_He was found by a warehouse worker." The male voice said in the odd language. "He was unconscious in a sealed crate. Dehydrated and starving. No clue how he survived." _

"_The poor dear." This was the woman. _

"_Has he woken at all?"_

"_No. not yet. It could be any time though."_

'Why did she say I haven't woken yet,_' he thought. He knew he was awake; the all consuming pain made sure of that. It was still slightly dark and he didn't like that so he forced his eyes open. He was welcomed by an unfamiliar white room. _

_Looking around so as not to notify the man and women he realized the entire room was white. There was a window that looked out at a beautiful old harbor and the picture on the wall was a generic artwork of a vineyard. The bed he was in was somewhat uncomfortable and covered with white, crisp sheets. He was surrounded by machines, some of which were attached to him in numerous places._

_He tried to think about what had happened to cause him such pain but he couldn't remember what happened. Thinking back he soon realized that he remembered nothing. Not his name. Not his age. Not his family. He was a complete blank. He began to hyperventilate when he realized he didn't have a clue to who he was._

_His harsh breathing alerted the nurse that had been talking to the policeman that he was awake. _

"_Bambino!" She gasped in Surprise. "You are awake."_

_When she noticed that he was having difficulty breathing she raised his bed and placed a clear mask over his face. She rubbed circles on his back and murmured nonsensical things that even had he understood the language he would not have got._

"_There, there child, that is better, just breathe." She instructed. When his breathing was under control she looked him in the eye and asked, "Now, can you tell me your name child?"_

_Having no idea what the nurse just asked the little boy just shook his head. She just looked at him with pity before she patted his head and left the room with one last smile._

_The little boy was kept in the hospital for three days and he didn't talk once. The doctors and police thought that he was so traumatized that he could not speak. They had no idea that he had no clue what they were saying and was scared. By the time the hospital had released him no one had come for him so he was escorted to a children's home by a pretty lady from social services. _

_The Children's Home was a three story building located in the populated hills that overlooked the Porto Vecchio. It was quaint, but when he saw all of the children playing in the large yard the child knew exactly what this place was. It was an orphanage._

_When they entered the building they walked through a large foyer; a wide set of stairs led to the upper floors and the smell of dinner came through an archway at the end of a short hallway. They entered through a set of double doors into the main office and the child was directed to sit in a comfortable couch that was located to the side of the room. _

_The woman who had escorted him began talking to another woman that was sitting behind the desk. They both spoke in the odd language and though the child was beginning to recognize some words he had no idea what was being discussed. Trying to distract himself he picked up a book that had been laid on the low table. He didn't recognize it. He couldn't read it but he turned the pages hoping to find a word that he did recognize. Finally, near the end, a title caught his eye. _

_James_

_He knew that word. It was a name, and though he didn't know why, it was familiar._

_The lady behind the desk finally stood up and came to kneel beside the little boy._

"_Ciao, mi chiamo Madam Silvaggio." __She pointed to her chest when she said this and the boy got the idea. She was introducing herself. He was lost though when she continued. "Now, the polizia said that you have no name and we cannot keep calling you child, so why don't we pick one. Si?"_

_At the child's confused stare Madam Silvaggio began to discuss names._

"_What about __Fedele__? It means the faithful. Or __Giovanni__, that means God is gracious...." She rattled off more names, "__Pietro__, __Marcello__, __Zanipolo__? No…what shall we name you."_

_Looking back to the child she thought that she would ask once more. "Are you sure you don't know your name?"  
_

_The boy had no idea what she was saying. However, the thinking gestures and the list of names gave him an idea of what she was trying to do. She was giving him a name. Not liking the sound of any of the names she had said he pointed to the familiar name in the book._

_Madam Silvaggio stopped in surprise when the child pointed at the bible. She was quite pleased though to see he had pointed to a name. _

'Maybe he isn't as damaged as I was told_,' she thought._

"_James?" She asked._

_At the child's nod she gave him the largest smile he had seen in his short memory. "James De Luca it is then. Welcome to Saint Jeromes."_

* * *

A/N

Thank you all so much for all the wonderful responses. I really do appreciate them and am so glad that so many people like the direction I am taking this.

If you have any questions just ask and I will try to clear it up.

Anyhoo, the song that was in this chapter is "Me Against The World" by simple plan.

_**Italian translations**_

**Alla purosangue furioso!:** To Furious Purebloods**---purosangue:** Purebloods**---cartellino di identificazione**: ID**---sbronzo:** Soused/Hammered**---Dimenticare:** Forget**---Ferita:** hurt**---Irritante:** Irritating**---amici:** friends**---maestro:** master**---professore:** teacher**---s****cuola:** school**---giacca:** Jacket**---problem:** problems**---denaro:** money**---giovanotto:** Young man**---Scusa:** Sorry**---Mi spiace: **Im sorry**---Ragazzo:** boy**---Figlio:** Son**---Divertente:** Amusing**---Ridicolo:** ridiculous**---all'università:** the university**---ripugnante:** abhorrent**---****Ciao:** Hello**---A Presto:** See you soon**---Buonanotte:** Good Night**---Congratulazioni:** Congratulations**---Ciao, mi chiamo:** Hello, my name is**---polizia:** police


	9. A Moment's Notice

"My heart is a gypsy - continuously searching for a home, fighting within itself, wondering whether it is weak or even right for that matter to be searching in the first place. Loneliness is what it feels like…"

Jenna Jameson

A Moments Notice

It had been a year since Lord Voldemort had returned. It had been unexpectedly quite and most of the Wizarding world thought that Michael was at minimum an attention seeking child and at worst a delusional nut case. Michael had been turned on before, but unlike second year he had no eye witnesses to his innocence; until Voldemort showed himself there would always be a shadow of a doubt. Michael knew not to be fooled though, it was just the quite before the storm.

Unfortunately for the Wizarding world, the storm had finally come.

Michael sat on the padded window sill looking out into the dark sky. For hours the twinkling stars seemed to mock him, but they were silent now. Everything was quite; even the castle, which was always so alive, seemed to be holding it's breath along with him.

He had been staring into the darkness for so long that he was slightly startled when he saw a faint light to the east. As the black velvet sky turned to gray, Michael could see the thick layer of mist that covered Hogwart's massive grounds. He only gave the dawning landscape a cursory glance before he once again became absorbed in his thoughts.

His family was fighting for their lives, and he was stuck behind a locked door in the headmaster's office.

The grey morning sky dissolved as the sun rose above the distant mountains. The rays of light broke though the wet mist and finally caressed the cold stone of the centuries old castle. Cherishing the warmth Michael closed his eyes and with a sigh he leaned his forehead on the glass.

Michael had been sitting in the headmaster's office for hours; he was waiting on news about the battle he knew had taken place at the Ministry. Time had slowed, and at times had seemed to stop; he couldn't believe that it was finally morning. The Generations of Hogwarts Headmasters had long ago fallen asleep—Michael's silent vigilance couldn't hold their attention— and the bright mourning light that shone against the walls of the office did not rouse them. Even though Michael could hear their soft snores the room was still.

A gentle voice suddenly broke the stillness.

"I expected you to be asleep." The headmaster queried, "Have you not slept at all my boy?"

"Sir!" Michael replied while getting to his feet surprised. "I needed to know what happened. To make sure everyone was safe."

Albus Dumbledore looked at his young student with sadness. He did not want to burden the child with news of the war but he heard the desolate tone of his voice and knew he was thinking about other family that he had lost. Albus knew withholding information would be torture for the boy and decided to put the child at ease.

He walked across the room and gently lowered himself behind his massive desk. With a sad smile he nodded and began. "No need to worry, your parents and uncles are safe. They are resting in their own quarters. There were a few casualties, but no one was killed. We were able to intercept the deatheaters and the prophecy is still in its place.

"Thanks to you, all is well. Now, you look dead on your feet. I know you have already finished your tests but you still need your sleep. Your mother will throw a fit when she finds out I left you here instead of sending you back to the dorms. Now off with you."

"Yes sir." Michael replied with relief. "And thank you, for telling me."

As Michael headed to the door he paused and turned back towards the headmaster to ask one more question that had been plaguing him.

"Sir?"

At hearing Michael's voice Albus raised his head and stared at the boy intently. "Yes my boy?"

Michael seemed to hesitate, but drew on his famed Gryffindor courage and asked, "Why did Voldemort want to lure me to the ministry? I wasn't marked by him, he knows this. I am not the child in the prophecy."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of his face and sighed in contemplation. To Michael he seemed to wither in front of him and he realized how much the battle had taken out of the famed wizard. Finally Dumbledore opened his eyes and answered the question. "That may be true, Michael, but he won't risk going to the Ministry himself, and he wants that prophecy. Did you know that only those that a prophecy speaks of can touch it without going mad?"

Michael was thrown off by the non sequitur for a moment but wondering where the headmaster was going he quickly answered.

"No sir…"

"It is true. However, no one but the Unspeakables know the specifics of that little charm. Does it react to the true participants? Or who the Unpeakables _believe_ it is about? If it is latter then you _would_ be able to touch it. "

"And if it is the first?" Michael asked, dreading the answer.

"As you know Michael, the world still believes you to be the chosen one. You have defied Voldemort more then any other person alive excluding myself. Also, as far as we know the beginning of the prophecy has not yet been fulfilled and you are still one of the three candidates. You are a symbol of hope to the wizarding world and the biggest threat to the Dark Lord's power. Voldemort knows all this my boy, and he wants to get rid of you.

"It was believed that the prophecy was about you so you very well may be able to touch it without loosing your mind. If you had not been one of the subjects then you loosing your mind would have been an added benefit to Voldemort. He most likely felt that it was a good way to get rid of you while at the same time letting the world know that you are not the prophesied child."

"Good thing I didn't do something foolish then huh?" Michael said with a nervous laugh. "Voldemort could have the prophecy and I could be a permanent resident at Saint Mungos."

Dumbledore smiled at Michaels attempt to lighten the mood and then continued. "Yes, it was very fortunate that Mr. Black was visiting your father last night. You can be very impulsive when you think your family is in danger. I dread to think of the outcome if Madam Umbridge was still teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Yea," Michael scoffed. "I'm just glad I was able to get her sacked…"

"Now, Michael." Dumbledore interrupted.

"I know, I know." Michael replied with a smirk. "I should not talk bad about my teachers."

Albus Dumbledore, the greatest Wizard alive, returned Michael's smirk.

……..

It had been three weeks since Voldemort had revealed himself to the world and already people were going missing. Amelia Bones was lucky. The head of the Department of Law enforcement was a shoe in for minister and that put her in danger. If it hadn't been for intelligence that Severus Snape leaked to the order she might not have gotten away.

With these thoughts, James grabbed his wife's hand and apparated to Grimmauld Place. He raised his hand to knock but before his fist had even connected with the door it was yanked open and the couple was greeted by the grinning face of Sirius Black.

"Prongs ol' boy!" the animagus exclaimed. "So glad you could make it to my little get together, it is bound to be smashing…"

James could hear the sarcasm hidden behind his cheery exterior and knew that this war was already taking its toll on his friend. Sirius bowed the two of them in and while Lily rolled her eyes James replied. "Glad we could come mate. We wouldn't miss the fireworks for the world."

Before Sirius was able to say anything else they were interrupted by their former charms professor.

"Lily! I am so glad to see you again. Albus and I were just talking about you." Exclaimed Flitwick as he hurried towards the friends. Lily bent slightly and allowed the Charms Master to embrace her around the shoulders. "Congratulations on your new post, I am sure you will make a wonderful potions mistress…"

James broke out into a coughing fit

*cough*better *cough*then *cough*Snape *cough*

Lily sent a glare at her husband before replying to her former teacher. "Thank you professor that is too kind. I am looking forward to it though."

"No need to call me professor, I am your colleague now, call me Filius."

"Thank you, Filius." Lily replied graciously.

Not wanting to be left out James spoke up, "Yes, thank you Filius, your well wishes mean a lot to us."

With a playful glare, Flitwick waggled his finger at the Auror, "You young man, can still call me professor."

Lily couldn't help but laugh at the flabbergasted look on James' face and sent a smile at the mischievous charms master.

"Come on James," Lily laughed as she began to drag her stupefied husband away. "Let's go get a seat before the meeting starts."

As if to clear his head James shook his head and replied with a "Yes dear."

"Oh James," interrupted the tiny professor, "Have you been following the dueling circuit this year?"

"Unfortunately not." He replied. "With the tournament last year, Voldemort, and taking over DADA this past year I just haven't had the time. Why?"

Flitwick was so excited he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I thought you would like to know that James De Luca won the Jr. International Dueling Championship for the second year."

"James De Luca?" James asked curiously. "Is he the one who won last year?"

"Oh my James," interrupted Albus Dumbledore as the three walked into the library where the meeting would be held. "You really have not been following the sport these last few years."

"I have had a few more important matters on my mind." The father replied sarcastically. "You know with the threats towards my son?"

"Now, now James, we are not criticizing you." Dumbledore replied. "We just thought you might be interested in hearing about the duelist."

"Why? What is so important about him?"

"He is so interesting because he is an Italian…" Dumbledore began before being interrupted by James with a scoff.

"So?"

In excitement Flitwick answered James with a squeak. "An Italian _Muggleborn_!"

At the world Muggleborn James stopped abruptly causing his friend to walk into his back; he ignored Sirius' indignant curse. He was speechless. A Muggleborn— and _Italian_ Muggleborn— won pureblood society's most prized title. Not once, but twice. James couldn't help but laugh in glee.

…..

More then thirty minutes later James was still laughing to himself when Albus Dumbledore spoke directly to the marauder.

"James, is there anything that we should know about in the Auror department?"

Sitting up straighter, James cleared his throat and began to report. "Amelia is back at work even though we believe there is a contract out on her life. We have doubled the security around her so that should help. As most of you know there have been six attacks since Voldemort returned and four more people went missing this weekend. We have also received reports that Lucius Malfoy has been seen leaving the country frequently. We believe that Voldemort is recruiting on the continent."

Though Albus hated hearing that more innocents had gone missing, it was the last bit of information that drew his attention. "Where?"

"He has taken trips to almost every country in the European Union, but he has gone to Italy multiple times."

With a sigh, the leader of the Order sagged into his chair and replied with a sigh, "We knew this would happen."

"What do you mean?" One of the newest recruits asked.

"Italy has always been more favorable towards anti-muggle sentiments." Dumbledore replied. "They most likely went to Voldemort themselves."

With a scoff James interrupted, "You mean Italian Muggleborns are treated worse then third class citizens."

There was immediate protest and exclamations of outrage. Dumbledore intervened before a debate could begin. "I am afraid that James is correct. In regards to Muggleborns Italy's laws and beliefs are quite archaic."

"Is there anyone there that could help us?" Lily directed her question toward the room in general, but the headmaster answered once again.

"There is someone." He thought aloud. "Maria Chevelle. She is an Italian Muggleborn who was educated at Beauxbatons. She returned to Italy and began her own school that would accept Muggleborns."

"When was this?" Flitwick asked.

"About ten years ago. In fact James De Luca is a student of hers. Her protégée in fact."

"Who?"

Hearing the growl coming from the corner Albus turned to his old friend and met the electric blue eye, "James and I were discussing dueling before the meeting began. James De Luca is the Jr. International dueling champion. He is also an Italian Muggleborn."

"I thought they didn't allow Muggleborns to compete?" Minerva McGonagall asked.

"They didn't until about five years ago." Dumbledore answered his deputy headmistress. "Madam Chevelle was really the one to see it accomplished. You see, she was a duelist in her school years. She was quite exceptional and she beat many of the French students who went on to win. Because she was a Muggleborn she could not compete on the Italian circuit though and you cannot compete on the International circuit unless you first compete on a national circuit.

"She pushed for the inclusion of all Muggleborns on the Italian circuit. The international pressure was extremely high and the Italian Dueling Board conceded. Maria Chevelle succeeded, but for her it was too late."

"Albus?" James interrupted with a smile. "Though this is very interesting, maybe we should get back on topic."

"Oh, yes. Madam Chevelle would make a wonderful alley, but I do not believe her influence with those in power is great enough. Also, having her actively help would only distract her from her work. I will send her a missive and a communication mirror but I do not see much coming from it."

……..

"Fool!" Voldemort hissed "Cant you do anything correct!"

"My lord." Lucius Malfoy pleaded, "I beg your forgiveness."

"You failed to get me the prophecy, you failed to kill that insufferable woman, and now you dare to interrupt me."

Voldemort's words were venomous and by the end he was towering over his servant in rage. His jaw was clenched and he gripped his wand so hard Malfoy was sure it would break. He swallowed his fear and bowing lower replied.

"My Lord, I am sorry. She knew we were coming. She had been warned." Malfoy head replied.

"A traitor you mean?" Voldemort asked with little doubt. He turned from his cowering servant and returned to his chair.

"Perhaps, My lord."

"You may be correct." Voldemort replied. "I will deal with this traitor though, forget it."

"As you wish, My Lord."

"Now, what is it you wished to tell me my slippery friend?" Voldemort hissed. "I do hope it is worth my time."

"I believe it is My Lord. I have brought my Italian contact. His name is Gino Lombardi and he wishes to join our cause, and he knows many others who wish this also. He requests an audience, if you will have him."

The Dark Lord stared at Lucius so intently that the aristocrat was sure Voldemort could see every intention. After what seemed like forever, the Dark Lord leaned back, smiled, and said, "Bring him to me."

With another bow of his head Malfoy replied "Yes, My Lord" and hurried out the room. He entered a moment later and was followed by another man. Gino Lombardi was tall, about 6"2' with a lean, muscular frame. His dark curly hair and dark eyes complimented his aristocratic features.

The two men walked the length of the room before they both dropped to their knees. Voldemort considered the newcomer for long moments before he finally spoke.

"You share many of my goals Gino, but why travel across the world to bow before an English man. What is it that you seek?"

"For years my Party has fought against the encroachment of the Mudbloods. I admit we are failing, My Lord. My government is bowing to the wants of other nations and it must be stopped. I have sixteen men who are willing to do anything to restore Pureblood honor and we believe you have the power to achieve this."

Voldemort stared into Lombardi's eyes for a long moment before a cruel smirk covered his face. "There is something you want though. Ask, and I will consider the request."

"You are too kind My Lord." Gino replied with another bow. "All we ask is that you take care of a slight nuisance. Something that I think you will agree is aligned with all of our goals."

At that moment the head of the Lombardi family raised his head to meet the eyes of a monster he had only heard about before know. The evil grin on the lipless face sent chills down even his back.

……………………………………

"You sure you will be okay?" Anthony asked for the fifth time. "I mean, you could come with us, you might get bored while I'm attending all of my father's meetings, but it's Paris, I bet you could find something to do."

Anthony finished his argument with a hopeful smile but James just shook his head.

"No, it's okay. Go learn the business with your father. Buone vacanze. I'm going to train with Madam Chevelle for the next month, so don't worry." James replied with a friendly punch to the shoulder, he continued with a devious smirk. "When you get back though, Rome won't know what hit it."

Anthony laughed but quickly sobered and with a nod of his head asked for a final time, "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Okay Amico." He said with a smile while grasping his friends arm. "I will see you in a month then, take care of your self."

"I will, now get going before you're late. Buon viaggio, have a safe journey."

With a final wave to his friend Anthony grabbed his Portkey and disappeared in a flash of light.

When James was finally able to blink the spots out of his eyes he sighed and turned towards the door. He wasn't lying to his friend, he was going to train with madam Chevelle, but it didn't make watching his friend leave any easier.

As he walked down the spacious corridor he couldn't help but hate the silence. It reminded him that he had no one to call his own. Just hours before the Accademia had been a hive of activity, now though it was eerily quiet. Other then the few students who were wards of the school and a few professors the Accademia was vacant. Every other student had gone home to their families.

James' mindless wondering finally led him to a large wooden door. Seeing where he was he couldn't help but smile before knocking lightly on the door. After only a moment there was a response from inside and James grasped the handle and pushed.

Once he cleared the door way James was greeted with a bright office and a beaming smile.

"Buongiorno!" Maria Chevelle exclaimed "I wondered how long it would take before you found your way here."

Now that School was officially over Maria Chevelle began to relax and addressed her student much more informally.

"I was saying bye to Anthony" James replied as he sat in his favorite overstuffed chair.

"Did he get off okay?" She asked as she came around her desk and sat on the couch that was across from the chair James sat in.

"Yea, he should be in Rome by now. He and his dad are catching a flight this afternoon. They'll be back in a month."

"What are your plans until then? You have to do something other then dueling?"

James grimaced at her playful tone.

"I was, ah, thinking about, ah…"

"Thinking about doing what?"

Finally deciding just to say it James took a deep breath and said, "I want to know who I am, if I have anyone."

"Why are you so embarrassed? You know I won't laugh." She soothed when she say James dismal, embarrassed, look. "Any luck so far?"

"No, I don't even know where to start. I know I am English, but that is about it. My age is a guess, and I have no clue what my birth name is, For all I know I was abandoned."

"You don't really believe that do you?"

Not wanting his mentor to see his despair James turned his head away. Maria knew how he felt though and it broke her heart. She got up from her seat and knelt in front of her student.

"James, Look at me. You are a wonderful young man, and any mother would be proud to call you her own. Never entertain the thought that no one ever loved you, and that you do not have people who care for you now."

Hearing the sincerity in her words James struggled not to cry. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head, all the while wishing the moisture in his eyes didn't betray his torment. Once he was sure the tears were gone he looked back up. "I know, I just can't help but feel lonely sometimes. I have no one to call my own. There is a hole in my heart and it's empty and I can't do anything about it."

Madam Chevelle wasn't sure what to say. After a moment of silence she rose to her feet and sat back on the couch. She finally asked a question which seemed out of place to James.

"Do you remember the first duel you lost?"

"Yea." He laughed. "I lost to Lombardi, and I threw one hell of a fit. I really hate loosing. "

"That you do." She smiled, remembering that moment. "But do you remember what I told you afterward?"

It took James a moment, but when he finally remembered, he gave her a sad smile and repeated what she had told him. "It is not always about winning, but about becoming better for it."

"Exactly." She replied. "I know that your life is difficult, and that sometimes you want to throw a fit, but remember what your difficulties teach you. And that they are the reason you are the man you are today. There is always going to be another mountain. It is not always about getting over the hill, but it _is_ about the climb. Don't ever regret what you are, even if the forging was painful."

"You always make me feel like a petty child, you know that?" James asked with a smirk.

"Yes I do." She said with a smile. "It works though, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, Yeah it does."

"Good, now get out of here, I have paperwork to do and we are going to start training after lunch."

"Ouch!" He cringed playfully. "No break whatsoever?"

"What do you think I am giving you now? You do want to win again next year don't you?"

"Yea, Yea, I'm going." James got to his feet and began to head towards the exit. When he reached the door he turned around and looked at his mentor. "Grazie. You always make things better."

With a smile she shooed him out and replied, "It was nothing, now go."

With a soft laugh James shook his head and headed out the door. He headed back to his dorm to grab his notebook and headed outside. It was a beautiful day and he wanted to enjoy his 'break'. Something that Madam Chevelle said had given him an idea for a song, but before that he had to work through some of his emotions. He had a lot of thoughts going through his mind and he wanted to get something down on paper.

Not ten minutes later James sat upon the grass looking out onto the massive lawns that surrounded the Accademia. There was a soft breeze blowing through the trees and other then the sound of the leaves rustling it was silent. It was also lonely.

I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
Don't know where it goes  
But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
and I'm the only one and I walk alone

James was used to it. He was almost sixteen and he hadn't gone back to Saint Jeromes since he left for school in his first year. He always spent a few weeks with Anthony's family but his friend always accompanied his father on a business trip to Paris for the first three weeks of the summer holidays. He stayed busy with his training, but the emptiness of the school was just a reminder that he had no one.

James knew he shouldn't dwell on these thoughts, as Madam Chevelle said he had a lot of things going for him and a lot of people who cared about him. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. He had always felt this way and no matter how many people he was surrounded by he had always felt alone.

I walk alone  
I walk alone  
I walk alone  
I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah,  
Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah

Sure, his friends were like family to him and he would never give them up for anything, but he knew that there was more waiting for him. He was lucky, he had more opportunities then most orphans and he thanked God for that, but he couldn't help but want more.

A part of James always thought that he was destined to be alone; No one could want a Muggleborn, let alone an orphan Muggleborn. He wasn't even sure he could be part of a family now; he had never had anyone and he didn't think that he could deal with those feelings. James loved to learn, but he wasn't sure that he could learn to be part of a family. It just wasn't him.

I'm walking down the line  
That divides me somewhere in my mind  
On the border line  
Of the edge and where I walk alone

Read between the lines  
What's messed up and everything's alright  
Check my vital signs  
To know I'm still alive and I walk alone

I walk alone  
I walk alone  
I walk alone  
I walk a...

He still wanted it though; someone to call his own. He wanted; no needed someone to fill the gaping hole in his heart. There had to be someone who would fight by his side? Someone that would love him unconditionally? He wasn't whole.

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone

Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Ah-ah, Aaah-ah  
Ah-ah, Ah-ah

I walk alone  
I walk a...

Sometimes James wondered if he did have someone out there; Family that didn't know about him or couldn't find him and missed him. There was a hole in his soul that he knew could not be filled by a lover, there had to be someone to fill it though; a brother perhaps?

I walk this empty street  
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk a...

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me  
'Til then I walk alone...

Finishing the last few lines of the song James closed his notebook, stood up and headed inside for lunch; he had a dueling session with Madam Chevelle and he would need the energy.

…………………………

Michael was bored. He was once again sitting in his bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place while his parents did work for the Order. There was a moment of excitement when a barn owl flew through his open window. He had opened his results with some excitement but having no one to share them with put a major damper on his enthusiasm.

O.W.L. Results for Michael Evan Potter

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

* * *

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS — O

POTIONS— E

TRANSFIGERATION— E

CHARMS— O

HERBOLOGY— E

ASTRONOMY— E

ARTHRITHMACY— N/A

ANCHIENT RUINS— E

CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES — O

DIVINATION— N/A

MUGGLE STUDIES— O

HISTORY OF MAGIC— A

INTRODUCTION TO MAGIC— N/A

OUTSTANDINGS: 4

EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS: 5

ACCEPTABLE: 1

10/13 POSSIBLE OWLS

With one last look at the parchment he crumpled the paper and threw it across the room. With a frustrated sigh Michael leaned his head back against the window. He usually would occupy himself with homework or his animals but since he hadn't been allowed to go over to the Weasley's he had already finished his work and he couldn't tend his animals because his parents wouldn't let him stay at home by himself. Instead he was stuck at his Godfather's home with nothing to do.

He knew why his parents wouldn't let him help, but it didn't make it any less frustrating. Michael hated feeling helpless and after the long summer of inactively he felt even more useless. Wasn't he the one that Voldemort wanted to kill? Wasn't most of the world looking to him to do something? Whether his parents liked it or not he was going to be involved in this war; his parents were naive if they thought he could avoid it, besides, he had already lost too much not to fight.

Thinking about his brother always brought conflicting emotions. On one hand he missed him terribly and would do anything for the chance to have him in his life again. There was also anger towards those that took him, and also towards Harry himself_. _

'_He is alive so why hasn't he found his way home yet?'_

Michael would always feel remorse for thinking those thoughts but it didn't keep them away. He also felt fear though.

'_Why hasn't Harry contacted us? What could stop him?'_

Michael wondered if he was still trapped somewhere and couldn't escape. Or worse, maybe he had forgotten about them and was living a life somewhere else.

'_I wonder what he could be doing. Is he scared of the coming war? Or does he have no clue what is coming?'_

In frustration Michael took his pillow and threw it at the door. It made little sound, but the action made him feel better. Not having anything else to do Michael lay down and decided to try and take a nap; his parents wouldn't be back for hours and he wanted to be up to greet them.

The moment his eyes closed and his breathing evened out Michael became aware of his surroundings. He was not in his bedroom at Sirius' house. It looked like he was in an old manor house. The windows were covered in heavy drapes and there was no furniture except for a high backed chair and a small table to the right of it.

The moment that Michael saw the familiar red eyes of the chair's occupant he knew he was not in a mere dream. He was in a vision and he did not think it was purposeful on the Dark Lord's part.

A hissing sound drew his attention to the monster across the room and Michael listened carefully.

"I have agreed to your request my friend." He whispered in a low voice towards a figured bowed at his feet.

"Thank you My Lord, you are most gracious." The man spoke with an accent that Michael couldn't quite place. "Destroying the school will send a message across the world. The Mudbloods will know fear once again."

"We will attack the school on the first of September after everyone has retired to bed." Voldemort exclaimed, then with a sinister smile he continued. "Blood shall seep through the stones and you will get your revenge."

Michael's first thought was Hogwarts; he never imagined another school could be the target. He was horrified to think of all his friends being hurt. He had time though; the attack wasn't planned for another week. They would be prepared. With that last thought Michael was able to force himself awake. He noticed the sun had set and that his parents would be back soon. He jumped to his feet and rushed to the door. He had to find someone so that they could warn the Headmaster. Voldemort was going to attack Hogwarts and they needed to stop it.

……………

Across the World James De Luca abruptly sat up in bed wide awake. Adrenalin from the dream was still coursing through his system and he was breathing hard. His body ached and he had no idea why. He looked to the clock on his side table and it read 10:48 PM.

It was September first and James had been sleeping less then an hour.

James dreamed quite often, but most of those were the normal dreams that everyone had, and if not they were scenes of what he thought could be memory; this was different though. It felt real, and like it was happening at that very moment. James had recognized numerous Italian Purebloods dressed in black cloaks and he was almost positive that the crimson eyed man was Lord Voldemort. The architecture was distinctly Roman.

James had never had a premonition through a dream before, and he didn't know what to think of it. He had learned long ago to listen to his gut though, and it was screaming that something bad was going to happen and it was going to happen very soon.

Hurrying, James kicked the covers off his legs and ran to the door. He had to warn Madam Chevelle. Voldemort and his Italian Death Eaters were about to Attack the Accademia.

A/N

Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. We went on vacation for two weeks and when I got back I had some troubles. I actually had most of the chapter written before I posted the last chapter but I had difficulty with a few scenes. I'm still not 100% happy but I figured you guys had waited long enough and I could always rewrite it later.

The song towards the end is Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams

For those of you who know who Jenna Jameson is her background has NOTHING to do with the story. I read the quote and I thought it fit perfect for this chapter.

**Italian Translations**

Amico- Friend

Buone vacanze- Have a good holiday

Buon viaggio- Have a safe journey

Buongiorno – Good Morning

Grazie – Thank you

Hope you enjoy, and for the MANY people reading this can't you leave this little author a note? It would be much appreciated. Toodles!


	10. Equaling The Devil

I accept chaos. I am not sure whether it accepts me. I know some people are terrified of the bomb. But then some people are terrified to be seen carrying a modern screen magazine. Experience teaches us that silence terrifies people the most.

Bob Dylan

* * *

EQUALING THE DEVIL

_________________________________________

As James ran through the dark corridors the only sound he could hear was the frantic beating of his heart. He didn't know how, but he knew exactly what was going to happen, and he knew if he didn't warn the headmistress then innocent children were going to die.

James also knew that he would die before he let those bigoted supremacists destroy his home and all who resided within its walls.

Before he realized it James had reached the large doors that led to Madam Chevelle's personal office and quarters. James raised his fist and banged it against the door as hard as he could. He called out to the headmistress not caring if he woke the entire school; that was the point wasn't it?

He knew that most of the students would be awake by now. He was not quiet in his mad dash to reach Madam Chevelle and numerous students had seen him running through the dorms. He was sure word had spread and James hoped that his reputation, as well as the urgent authority in his voice, was enough that the students would listen to him and stay in their quarters.

After a moment, but what seemed like forever, the door was yanked open. James lost his balance and the momentum from his knocking sent him to the ground. Before madam Chevelle could say anything James scrambled to his feet and exclaimed, "The school is going to be attacked!"

The color drained from Maria's face instantly and she quickly headed toward her desk.

Without pausing she asked, "Quando?"

"Soon."

She nodded her head in understanding while casting a spell over a glass representation of the school. A loud wailing sound pierced the air and James knew the school was going into lockdown.

"You sure?" Madam Chevelle asked without looking.

There was no doubt in her voice, only hope.

"sicuro."

With a nod she opened another drawer and pulled out a small compact mirror. With the tip of her wand she touched the reflective surface and said '_Iungo'_. The mirror glowed a dark blue and as if she took this as her cue Madam Chevelle began to speak into the mirror.

"Albus Dumbledore. This is Maria Chevelle and My school in under attack. I need help."

Standing in the middle of his mentor's office James watched as Madam Chevelle called the famous Albus Dumbledore for help. He had had no idea that she actually knew him but when he thought about it he wasn't surprised.

Not a second later the room began to fill with the other teachers and staff. They looked as if they had just woken up, and remembering the time they probably had; they were alert though, and that was what mattered. James received a few odd looks but no one questioned his presence. The door opened a final time and the Deputy headmaster entered. After a quick glance around the room to make sure everyone was there he closed the door and headed towards his student.

When Darius Maschio reached James he leaned close and in an urgent whisper asked, "What is going on?"

Before James had a chance to respond Madam Chevelle replaced the mirror in the draw and turned to face her colleagues. Her face was grim but set. She opened her mouth to inform the staff what was happening when there was a loud explosion that rocked the entire building. The front side of the blue model flared a bright red before turning clear; the western wards had fallen.

…..

It had been just over ten minutes since James had woken up from his dream and it was only now that he was finally able to calm himself.

They were ready.

At least as ready as they could be; help was on the way, the students would be safe, and Madam Chevelle was organizing her troops like the strategist she was.

Once everyone had figured out what was happening Madam Chevelle had reassured the staff that they still had time before the Death Eaters broke through the inner wards. She stressed that their main priority was to hold off the attack until help arrived; the children would be safe if they could do that.

While she was speaking James' breathing steadily got worse. Seeing his student's discomfort the Defense Master raised his hand and settled it on James' shoulder. James knew that Maschio's following squeeze was that of gratitude and reassurance and that insignificant act had calmed him more then anything else.

Maria Chevelle walked from behind her desk and exited her office. She led the large group through the corridors and without slowing her brisk pace she began to throw out orders.

"Dominic, I need you to take Claire, Dalida, Leone, Quentin, Bruno and Riccardo up to the second floor. Position yourselves at the Western windows; we need cover from above."

Though James knew the seven teachers that the headmistress had indicated were great in their individual fields and had excellent aim, James knew, and so did Chevelle, that they wouldn't last five minutes in a close quarters battle.

"Enrico, I need you to go up to the children. Take Christain with you."

With a nod, the Art and English Language professors nodded their heads and wished the others luck; they began to rush up the stairs towards the students.

The group had finally reached the foyer and Maria stopped just inside the large double doors. She took a deep breath to steady herself, spun on her heels, and leveled the remaining witches and wizards with an intense gaze. She began to speak.

"The rest of us are going to be in the direct line of fire, so if you don't want to be here go now."

No one moved, and after a moment of hesitation Maria nodded her head in gratitude and began to scrutinize the remaining teachers. After a moment she came to a conclusion and began to issue orders once again.

"Avy, Raul," she stated, "I want you to take position inside the entrance way. Keep cover and hold your position so we have a retreat if we need it."

With their nod of assent the headmistress turned to the other thirteen and said, "We will spread ourselves in a defensive line on the front lawn; I will take point. Once the fighting starts I want you to stay in groups. Simone, Giulietta, Erika, Maurice, Bebbe and Gino you will take the South end while Gemma, Frank, Matteo, Giorgio, Fernando, and Bruno will take the North. Darius you'll take right point with me."

She finally turned to James and with a hesitant look asked, "I want you at my back James, but if you want to go back up to the dorms I'll understand."

With a crooked grin that all the staff knew well James replied, "I'm still here aren't I? You already gave us the choice to leave."

With an exasperated laugh and a fond smile Maria Chevelle assented and placed both her hands on her student's shoulders. With a sad smile she said, "I am so proud of you James."

At the moment of sentimentality James lowered he head and shrugged his shoulders. When he raised his head again his mentor had composed herself and had her lecture face on.

"You have your spare wand?" It wasn't a question, but a statement.

With a role of his eyes James replied, "What do you think?"

"What about you knives?" This was a question that James had to smirk at. He raised his eyebrow incredulously and stared at the headmistress.

With another exasperated shake of her head she answered her own question, "I shouldn't have asked. I hate those things you know? And I should have taken them away."

James smirked again. "You should of, but then I wouldn't have them now."

Maria Chevelle went to smack her student over the head but he dodged quickly. When she turned towards him again his expression was series.

"Ready for a fight?"

"Have you said your prayer?"

James nodded his head solemnly.

"Then yes, I'm ready.

………….

Albus Dumbledore was nervous. Less then a week ago Michael Potter had had a dream in which Voldemort had discussed attacking the School. When Severus had been told, the Defense Teacher had scoffed at the idea. Albus' spy had reassured the headmaster that the Deatheaters were not preparing an attack and that Michael had been wrong.

Albus had wanted to believe his students but there was no other evidence that Tom was going to attack Hogwarts this night. Severus' continued presence reiterated this. Still, he would not put his school and her students at risk; Albus had been channeling extra power into the wards all week and he had called the order together in case Michael was right.

Thought it was only a little before ten Albus began to doubt his decision. There was school tomorrow and the teachers needed their sleep. Once the clock struck ten and there was still no indication that an attack was imminent Albus decided to send his phoenix's to bed. As the others started for their quarters for the night Albus Dumbledore began the long hike towards his own office and attached quarters.

The stone gargoyle moved quickly out of the way and he ascended the stairs. When he entered the room Fawkes gave him welcoming twill and ruffled his feathers in greeting.

"Hello old friend." He sighed and he crossed the room to his familiar. "I do believe I missed something important tonight."

At his statement the phoenix quirked his head to the side and with a knowing chirp flew to the cabinet I which Albus kept all his communication devices.

Tired, Albus replied to the bird. "No Fawkes, there is no one I need to talk to tonight."

At Albus' misunderstanding the bird flapped his feathers and raised a few feet off the cabinet. At the birds indignant squawk Albus walked over to the cabinet. Curious he opened the door and to his surprise one of his mirrors was glowing a dark blue.

"Oh Dear."

Albus Dumbledore had immediately recognized the mirror as the brother of the mirror he had given Maria Chevelle at the beginning of the summer. The fact she was calling for help, added on top of Michael's dream, made the Headmaster realize his mistake; he knew what the message would say. As he picked up the mirror and tapped the surface with his wand he hoped that he was wrong.

He was not.

The reflective surface clouded for a second before it settled onto the face of a grave Maria Chevelle. The message was simple, but urgent. "Albus Dumbledore." It said, "This is Maria Chevelle and My school in under attack. I need help."

Without a moments hesitation the Headmaster replaced the mirror into it's spot and raised his wand.

"Expecto Patronum!"

As the familiar form of his patronus appeared Albus Dumbledore considered what message to send to the order members still in the castle.

"Voldemort is attacking the Italian Muggleborn School. They need reinforcement. Meet in great hall and be prepared to Portkey out within ten minutes."

As Albus Dumbledore watched the silver creature rush out his office he only hoped that they were not too late.

………….

The fighting was intense. Their defensive line had broke within five minutes of the Deatheaters breaking the inner wards. James and his two professors now formed a tight triangle and attacked from all directions. They worked in perfect sync and James knew it was only because of the hours that he spent with his teachers training. James agreed that this formation was critical in battle, he loved that he didn't have to worry about his back, but he loathed not being able to easily dodge. He just hoped that when a sickly green light came their way all three of them would all be able to move.

Spells were coming from the main door as well as multiple windows on the second floor. The Deatheaters had been taken by surprise; they had not expected the teachers to be prepared and for the defensive wards to be at full strength. Four lives were lost just trying to cross the no mans land between the outer and inner wards and numerous Purebloods had already fallen in battle with the teachers. The wards on the building itself were the strongest and the Deatheaters still had to pass the fifteen highly trained wizards and witches before they could even attempt to break the last set of wards. The Deatheater's were loosing.

On the peripheral of his Vision James saw two hooded men nearing the Northwestern edge of the building. He only took a second to decide what to use and before the attackers even noticed they had been spotted James threw a sequence of low level spells in their direction. Though he was perfectly capable of using high powered destructive spells James could tell the two men weren't that quick so there was no need; he knew that if he conserved his power now then he could out last anyone on the battle field.

James raised his wand in the air and with whipping motion yelled "_Flagello_"

A vibrant purple beam of magic soared towards the intruders and with a crackle of magic the tip wrapped around the wrist of the lead Deatheater. With a yank James was able to pull him off his feet. Not a moment later James sent a jet of water towards the two men with his secondary wand. Before the water even reached his targets James incanted another spell.

"_Levitas_!"

Instantly a blindingly white light left James primary wand and followed the purple bean of light that still connected the wet Deatheater to his wand. The length of light suddenly reached its target and one after the other both Deatheaters screamed and collapsed to the wet ground.

James turned back to the battle in front of him knowing the two men would not get up. Before he could contemplate the slightly smoking figures James noticed a neon purple curse heading strait for him. He swatted the curse away with a reflective shield at the tip of his wand and reciprocated the attack.

_"Ventus Parietis!"_

A wall of wind burst out of James wand and even though the Deatheater was able to raise a shield in time the force of the wind blew his shield away and tossed the wizard into the air at least a dozen yards. There was a sickening crunch as his body hit the trunk of a tree and crumpled to the ground lifeless.

'_Opps!' _James thought._ 'Guess I put a little too much power behind that spell. Oh well.'_

An urgent command to duck came from his defense master at his back and James instantly dove to the ground in a roll. He came up in a crouch and saw the familiar face of the man who had just tried to kill him and his teachers.

Gino Lambardi, the most elite of the Italian Purelbloods, was only slightly more of a bastard then his son. A low growl formed in James throat and he rose to his feet intending to curse the bastardo.

Lambardi's curse missed the teachers and had instead hit one of his comrades in the back. It was a surprise to the charms master when the unsuspecting Deatheater fell to the grass and didn't get back up.

When Lambardi saw James rise from the ground he yelled in rage and began to stride towards his new target. James surveyed his surroundings and saw his mentor not ten feet away fighting a petite women. She caught his eye and after dispatching her opponent she nodded her head. James knew she had his back.

As Gino Lambardi stalked closer James held his ground. He knew only one of them would walk away from this fight alive and he prayed it would be him. Out of habit he reached up and grasped the Sphinx Pendant that hung around his neck; he hoped that he would live long enough to find whoever gave him the gift. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves he raised both his true wand and his secondary wand. He was in a ready battle stance; feet planted firmly with his body twisted so he only exposed his side. One wand was raised above his head to attack while the other was held at his side to defend. He took a deep breath and then let loose a fire storm of spells.

"_Avis! Stupefy! Ruducto! Incendio!"_

James knew that most people would wonder why he would cast this particular set of spells; they had nothing in common. In dueling though, it was a trick that if mastered was a great advantage. The four spells might not have been similar, but fired in this particular order their movement flowed together perfectly and James was able to cast the spells much quicker then he would have been able to separately. It was only luck that the particular way Lambardi fell to the ground allowed him to escape the onslaught unscathed. When the birds cleared he jumped to his feet and sent the green unforgivable his way.

James easily sidestepped the curse and sent the body bind followed by another "_Stupefy_!"

Lambardi raised a shield in time and quickly sent back a cutting jinx. James took the hit so he could correctly set up his next move, and ignoring the blood pouring from his arm he incanted his spell.

"_Caliga_!"

A thick mist poured out of James wand obscuring his and Lambardi's vision. The Pureblood shot a blue curse toward his opponent but it was wide. James now knew the location of Lambardi and raised both his wands to where he knew his enemy was. He fired two curses almost instantaneously.

"Impervius! Incendio!"

His aim was true and the echoing screams began immediately. Through the fog the other Deatheaters had no clue what was happening and Lambardi's repeated _aquaeous _spells had little affect against the water repelling charm.

Not wanting the man to suffer James fired one last curse at his enemy.

"_Stupify_!"

His aim was once again true and the screams died instantly. James didn't feel guilty about killing a man who was there to kill him, but he was no monster.

As he stood in the protection of the fog he thought about the man who he had just killed and remembered his first encounter with the Pureblood. It was the same day that he had met Anthony and they had been exploring Caduceus Alley for a few hours when an older boy ran into Anthony

_"Hey!" He yelled, "Watch were you are going Dal Sangue Sudicio!"_

_Anthony, being the aristocrat he was, raised his chin and let loose a set of profanities that Even James had never heard._

_It was as Anthony was finishing his rather colorful display that his father and their two chaperons caught up to them.  
_

"Ragazzi." The music teacher admonished. "I hope you were not causing trouble?"

It seemed Anthony's manners were back and he cordially replied. "Of course not, Madam Machiavelli. We were just talking to our new friend."

Clair knew the antagonism between Muggleborns and Purebloods and so she knew this was a lie but let it slide. At least there was no blood. Yet.

_Suddenly a tall and intimidating figure aproached the group and interrupted._

_"Darius Maschio, the Master Duelist and Claire __Machiavelli, the Muscian." He scoffed at their names and titles. "I do hope you do not believe that cazzata. You know those _bambini _are trouble."_

_"Hello Gino." Darius replied stifly. "I hope you are wonderful this day."_

_"My day was going good." He replied snidely. Gino Lambardi suddenly noticed the figure standing by Anthony.  
_

_"A muggle?" He scowled. "How marvelous. Come Giuseppe, we have things to do."_

_With that final remark the two Purebloods walk away._

_........  
_

James shook his head to clear it of the distracting thoughts. He took another breath to ease his nerves and walked through the fading fog. The first thing that he saw were the glazed eyes of his Potions and Chemistry Professors. The nightmarish sight shocked him for a moment and in a panic he looked around the field. There were dozens of bodies but other then the married couple all were wearing masks. He took another breath to compose himself again and ran to where he saw his mentors battling four figures.

James registered the look of relief on his Professor's faces before he added his own volley of spells to the attack. With the extra help the four Deatheaters were quickly dispatched. Once they were sure that the Deatheaters were not getting up the three Duelist turned back to the main battle.

Out of the original thirty attackers there were only nine left. They were winning.

James was exultant, and as a sense of warmth rushed through his body he couldn't help but laugh. The Italian Purebloods might have the support, but in regards to sheer magical power and talent, they had nothing against this particular group of Muggleborns and Halfbloods.

Thinking about their soon to be victory James couldn't help but think about the architect of the attack. He knew Voldemort had planned it but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

'_Did he think we would be that easy to overcome?_' he thought.

As if James' thought had summoned the monster a green light struck Maria Chevelle in the back.

She fell to the ground dead.

James and his defense teacher stared in shock for a moment before Maschio grabbed his shoulder and threw him to the ground.

As James hit the ground he opened his eyes only to be met the the sightless brown eyes of his mentor.

His breathing became labored as he began to hyperventilate.

"James," Maschio commanded. "You need to stay together. We need you. Now breath."

At his mentor's command James squeezed his eyes closed, laid his head on the cool earth and breathed deeply and evenly. The smell of the damp grass brought him back to reality and he was able to climb to his feet. James saw a deep purple curse heading his way and instantly threw up a shield.

As the curse dissipated on his shield James turned to where the curse had come from and met the eyes of a monster.

Suddenly, as if he was seeing double, an unfamiliar scene began to play in front of his eyes. It was dark, but James could tell that the room was a nursery. There was a tall dresser on the far wall, a rocking chair in the corner, and adjacent to where he was there was a crib. Unexpectedly, the crib was occupied by a red haired child. Suddenly the door shuddered and then flew off it's hinges. James tried to raise his arm to protect his face from the Wood shrapnel but nothing happened. Dust obscured his vision, but through the darkness he saw two serpentine red eyes.

Suddenly the vision was gone and as James Blinked he realized he was facing the same pair of eyes.

'_What the Hell?_' he thought. '_Was that an another vision_?'

The thought that the scene could have been a memory passed through his conscious but he quickly disregarded it. Until today, he had never seen the Dark Lord in person.

When he met the malevolent eyes once again they drew in all his attention and he could not take his eyes away. It wasn't until Voldemort raised his wand that James was able to shake himself out of his trance. He quickly took stock of his surroundings and realized that he was alone. Darius Maschio had been drawn into battle and it seemed that it was evenly matched; the other teacher's were still occupied with their own opponents. James took a breath to calm himself and got into his battle stance.

The spells came so quick that James barely had time to dodge let alone send any back. Most of the spells were so obscure that James could only dodge hoping they didn't hit one of his allies. Finally, Voldemort took a wrong step and James took advantage of the second respite.

Hoping to break Voldemort's shield He threw two of the most powerful spells he knew followed by a creation of his own.

_"Reducto! Incendio! Vacuus Anima!"_

The spells hit and miraculously the Dark Lord's shield shuddered and then fell. He was so surprised that James third spell hit him effortlessly. The dark Lord began to gasp as he realized he could not breath in air.

James was shocked, and before he could recover and send a Stupefy at the Dark Lord he was surrounded by a vivid red light and he fell to to floor in excruciating pain.

Suddenly nothing else mattered. James just wanted the pain to stop, to end. He wished for death not even caring that others were still in danger. He bit through his tongue while preventing himself from screaming out. He would not give the bastardos that satisfaction. Finally, when it seemed like his body would burst, the pain was suddenly gone.

James was free and able to think rationally again.

He rolled over onto his stomach and spit out the blood that had pooled in his mouth. It was as he was gasping in the cool night air that James reliazed his cherished pendant was gone. Before he could look for it Master Maschio was at his side in and calling his name. James was able to roll over and reassure his savior. His mentor helped him to his feet and kept an arm secure around his shoulders until he was steady. James once again took stock of his surrounding and noticed his attacker was dead. Unfortunately, Voldemort was not in the same state; he was recovering and staring at James with hatred.

Voldemort raised his wand and before James could respond a reducto curse was heading towards him and his teacher. Not having enough time to create a shield, and not trusting it to hold, James pushed Maschio to the ground. The curse flew inches over their heads and hit one of the pillars that held up the entryway.

James could hear multiple screams behind him and prayed it hadn't come from one of the teachers. James jumped back to his feet and began to throw every curse he knew.

_"Reducto! Flipendo! Silencio! Expelliarmus! Levitas! Liago!"_

James knew that these spells would have little affect but he just needed to hold the monster off; if he inundated him with simple, even ridiculous spells, then he wouldn't be able to attack. James knew if he slowed down at all that the Dark Lord would take the offensive and he would never give it back. Albus Dumbledore would be here any second though, and he _could _fight Voldemort. James just had to slow him down, and hopefully live through it.

James' luck didn't last though. Voldemort was faster and was able to slip in a spell between James' onslaught. The orange light Hit James square in the chest and he was thrown ten feet into the air. His back hit the already crumbling walls of the school and he fell to the broken floor.

James pulled himself to his feet and began to fire off spells once again.

_"Stupefy! Tarantallegra! Cavusum! Ferula! Conjunctivitis! Expelliarmus!"_

The overhang and front of the building were in ruins though, and was coming down all around James. The majority of the spells that he fired at the dark lord were absorbed by falling debris and none hit their mark.

James was clipped in the shoulder by a large piece of stone. The sting of the wound hurt but the popping of the joint was even worse. The force of the debris took him to the ground before he could recover. James was able to pull himself to his knees but when he looked up all he saw was the triumphant smirk on the Dark Lord's face. It was then that James realized his primary wand was in Voldemort's hand and his secondary wand lay in pieces to his left.

"_Avada Kadavra!"_

The words that left Voldemort's mouth were not a shock. James knew there was very little chance that a sixteen year old could out dual the Dark Lord. He had wished that he could do a little more damage before he was taken down though. With this thought James pulled out his last knife and positioning it flat against his wrist he pulled back and threw it at the monster.

As James looked into the red eyes of his murderer he knew two things; One: he was going to die, and two: his aim was true. Less then a second later the green light was upon him and everything went black.

____________________________________________________________

We go on together for better or worse

Our history is too real to hate

Now and forever, we stay until morning

And promise to fight for our fates

Til we die  
Til we die

The start of a journey is every bit worth it  
I can't let you down anymore  
The sky is still clearing  
We're never afraid  
And the consequences opens the door

I never stopped trying I never stopped Feeling

like family is much more than blood  
Don't go on without me  
The piece That I represent compliments

each and everyone

Til we die

Til we die

We won't be forgotten  
We'll never give in  
This war we've achieved  
Has allowed us to win

Til we die  
Til we die

My last true confession Will open your eyes  
I've never known Trust like the nine  
Let it be spoken Let it be screamed  
They'll never ever Take us alive

Til we die  
Til we die

We won't be forgotten  
We'll never give in  
This war we've achieved  
Has allowed us to win

Carry on  
Carry on

(We'll never be broken, We won't be denied)  
(Our war is the pressure, We need to unite)  
(We'll never be broken, We wont be denied)  
(Our war is the pressure, We need to unite)

Til we die  
Til we die

We won't be forgotten  
We'll never give in.  
This war we've achieved  
Has allowed us to win

Carry on  
Carry on

* * *

A/N

'Til We Die lyrics by slipknot

So can everyone guess what is going to happen? Anyhoo I hope everyone likes this chapter and leaves a review. Toodles!

**ITALIAN TRANSLATIONS**  
**Quando**---When?...**Sicuro**---certain...**Bastardo**---bastard...**Dal Sangue Sudicio**---Dirty Blooded...**Cazzata**---worthless thing

**SPELLS I CREATED  
**

**Iungo**- activate...**Flagello**-whip...**Levitas**-lightning...**Ventus Parietis**-wall of wind...**caliga**-mist...**vacuus Anima**-empty breath


	11. Standing Strong

The work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives and the dreams shall never die.

Edward Kennedy

* * *

Standing Strong

* * *

Standing across from the Dark Lord I knew I wasn't going to live. I had a wild hope that I would, but I knew it was just that, a hope.

Now, surrounded by nothingness, I knew I was right.

I had never really thought about death; I was too content with living, making a place for myself. The only thing I knew was that when I did eventually die I would finally have an answer to all my questions. Here I was though, surrounded by a white fog, and I still had no idea who I was.

As I walked aimlessly through the swirling fog I noticed something in the distance. I hurried ahead hoping for something, but not knowing what it could be. The fog began to recede and I found myself in a small grove. Large trees surrounded me and flowers of every color were in bloom.

It was beautiful.

Without meaning to I spoke my next thought aloud. "Where am I?"

I didn't expect a response, but there was one. "A familiar place."

Turning around quickly I came face to face with a beautiful women. She had warm honey colored eyes, light tanned skinned and long dark brown hair that fell in a strait curtain down her back. I didn't know her, and I didn't know this _familiar_ place. "But I don't…"

She interrupted me before I could finish my statement, "Look again."

I did look, and though the grove hadn't changed, it became something else. I knew this place now, I just didn't know how.

"How?" I questioned.

She gave a soft laugh that sounded like music and with a smile answered my question. "I used to play with you here."

She spoke the truth, but my mind and heart couldn't reconcile these words. I was missing too much.

"But I don't know you."

"Yes you do." She laughed. "You just don't remember."

At those words a hope rose in me that I had never felt. This woman knew who I was, and she knew I couldn't remember; most importantly though, she seemed to care for me. "You know me?"

She nodded her head with a "yes."

At that simple word tears began to flow from my eyes and I could only think of one thing to ask. "Who?"

"I'm sorry." She said with a sad smile. "I can't tell you that."

I almost chocked out my next words, "Why?"

"If I told you now you would never accept them. Your heart has to find the answer for itself."

"What do you mean?" I asked confused, "Aren't I dead?"

"No," she laughed. "You aren't dead. "

That was a surprise, but I still didn't understand her earlier words. "What do you mean I would never accept them? Who would I never accept?"

"What is the one thing you have always wanted, but at the same time feared?"

I knew what she meant, but I couldn't say the words aloud. I knew it would only cause more pain. I was curious though, "What if I never find them?"

She laughed that beautiful laugh again. "Trust me, my sphinx, you will."

"What..?"

Before I could ask about the name she had called me she continued.

"Your life has not, and will not be easy. But you are strong enough to get through. Never doubt that. I know it will be difficult but you have to open up; let them love you, and let yourself love them in return. You need their help, and they need yours."

With that last cryptic statement the woman turned around and began walking away. I opened my mouth to stop her but before I had a chance she began to fade before my eyes. The grove was empty now; less beautiful, but more familiar. I fell to my knees and with a sob I laid my head on the damp ground and wept.

* * *

_**WHO-KNOW-WHO ATTACKS ITALIAN SCHOOL**_

_By Natalie Wingburn_

_Last night at around 11:00 CET He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself led a vicious attack on a small school in Northern Italy. The Milan Accademia di Magico is home to less then one hundred and fifty students and more then ninety percent are Muggleborn. According to sixth year Leonardo Mancini the high percentage is due to the fact that the prominent Italian School of Magic, Marcello's Scuola di Magia will not admit Muggleborns, "Marcello's is led by a bunch of Purebloods who think that we don't deserve to learn magic. Madam Chevelle, the Headmistress was an Italian Muggleborn who went to Beauxbatons because she couldn't go to Marcellos. She graduated top of her class and when that school wouldn't give her a job teaching DADA she started up the Accademia. She was the best teacher ever, and she gave all of us a chance to prove ourselves." Maria Chevelle is also held responsible for the Italian National Dueling Board's decision to allow Muggleborns to compete six years ago._

_It is believed that Maria Chevelle's crusade is the very reason that the Accademia was attacked. According to a prominent member of Italian Wizard society, Paolo DeNardo, "Chevelle has been a nuisance for the past ten years. Those children will never succeed and she gave them false hope. Muggleborns cannot grasp magic the way purebloods can and the fact that she was vocally adamant that this is not true is the reason the school was attacked. I pray that there is not enough money to rebuild."_

_Though the attack was unexpected, there was some warning. According to many students, a sixth year by the name of James De Luca was seen to be leaving the dorms just moments before the attack. Many know the young man as the Jr International Dueling champion, but what many people don't know is that he is rumored to have the gift of precognition. The students and teachers alike accredit him to marginalizing the attack. The headmistress had just enough warning to call for help before all communication was cut off. There are reports of intense fighting but the staff and Mr. De Luca were able to hold off the Death Eaters until Albus Dumbledore came and forced the attackers to retreat._

_There were casualties though; Madam Maria Chevelle, Healer Raul Trilby, Potions master Simone Vicini and his chemist wife Giulietta Vicini were killed in battle. Numerous teachers, as well as James De Luca, were also injured. The school is reported to be too damaged to reopen this year, and though Defense Master Darius Maschio, who will become Headmaster, refused to comment, we have learned that he has asked Hogwarts and Beubaxtons to take the students in until the Accademia can be reopened next year._

Hermione Granger had barely finished reading the article when one of her best friends interrupted her.

"Look at Malfoy." At Michael's insistence Hermione looked towards the serpents table.

A low whistle from her other side drew her attention before she could comment. "He looks like the bloody Baron decided to take up residence in his dorm." Ron Weasley remarked. "I thought he would have been peeved. Dirty mudbloods getting one over his Lord and all."

"Ron!" Hermione chided. "Don't say that! You don't know he's a Deatheater."

"It doesn't matter." Michael interrupted. "Ron is right though, Malfoy does look scared. I mean he's been agitated since we got here, but…"

"Of coarse he's agitated. Daddy dearest is locked up in Azkaban. He's probably embarrassed and wondering when the Ministry will come for him."

At the Red heads statement both Michael and Hermione rolled their eyes. Michael responded, "It's not that, he's really worried and it's taking its affect."

At that moment the object of their discussion stood up and stormed out of the hall. Numerous eyes followed the path the aristocrat took and when he was fully gone even more whispers broke out.

"Well, whatever it is, it's bloody tragic." The sarcasm was evident in the purebloods voice. "I mean, he hasn't bothered us yet. This might end up being a good year yet"

At the reminder Hermione's eyes lit up. "Especially with the foreign students coming."

"You think that true?" Ron asked as he stuffed another forkful of egg in his mouth. "That Those Italians are coming here?"

Turning his gaze away from Ron's mouthful of food Michael looked at the head table; the headmaster was still not there and neither was the school's nurse.

With a shake of his head he turned back to his friends and answered with a shrug, "I wouldn't bet against it."

"Michael's right. I don't think the headmaster would reject the students. Especially if the article is true and the other Italian school won't let them in." Hermione commented before continuing more excited. "I am so excited to meet them. How many do you think will come here? I hope they speak English, or at least French. I might have to brush up. Aren't you excited? This will be a great opportunity to learn about a new culture."

"Mione? Michael interrupted his friend with a grin. "You're rambling again."

At her look of disbelief Ron nodded his head and said. "He's right Mione. Besides, if you really want to learn about Italy why not go talk to Zambini? He's Italian."

"I can't ask him." She whispered in embarrassment. "He's a Slytherin. Besides, he might not be as bad as Malfoy but I'm sure he wouldn't give me the time of day."

Hermione's blush made Michael believe that there was more to her hesitation then just fear. She was a Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! With a sudden realization he knew; she had already asked him.

When Michael burst out in laughter half the hall looked towards the Gryffindor trio in curiosity.

With a laugh of his own, Ron shook his head and muttered, "And people say I'm nutters."

* * *

The darkness pressed into him from all sides.

There was nothing, and for a moment he was no one. The feeling seemed vaguely familiar and it wasn't until his memories flooded back into his mind that he remembered why.

He had wakened with no memory before.

Thankfully, the lack of memory was not permanent this time. James remembered the green light racing towards him and he remembered being sure that his demise was near.

Was he dead? Was his borrowed time finally up?

'_I can't be dead._' He thought. '_This isn't what it is supposed to be like._'

James knew he couldn't be dead. Even though he was numb, he felt too alive.

"_**They want to kill you, but I don't, so I am going to help you escape."**_

The accented voice surprised him; he could see nothing but darkness. The voice was faint, as if it came from a distance and James knew this voice was coming from his own mind.

"_**I'm going home? I get to see my mummy and daddy again?"**_

He knew that voice, it was his. James had never asked that question though.

'_Could these be memories_?' he thought.

"_**obliviate"**_

The voices faded as quickly as they had come and James wondered what had triggered it. He began to frantically search through his memories hoping to find something, anything that was new. After what seemed like days James gave up; he hadn't found any new memories of his childhood but he had come across something that intrigued him. He could tell it was new, but it wasn't from the battle.

'Can you dream after you die?' he wondered.

Coming to no conclusions James put it to the back of his mind and turned his attention to his body. It was only then that James realized that he _hurt_. Every limb was a heavy weight and every joint was on fire. There was no way that the killing curse didn't hit him but he also never thought that death would hurt so much.

James unconsciously let out a moan.

"James?" A loud voice interrupted his thoughts on the afterlife. "Jimmy? You awake?"

Hearing his friends voice James knew he wasn't dead. He had no idea how, but it was the truth.

James heard the worry in his friend's voice and tried to respond. All that escaped his mouth was another moan.

With a relieved laugh Anthony grabbed James' hand and squeezed.

Clearing his throat before Anthony could start talking James asked? "Tony?"

"Yeah, it's me." He laughed. "Mi amico, you shouldn't be awake."

"Why not?" James groaned.

"Why not? You nearly died you lucky bastard!" He yelled. "A building came down on you and you wonder why you shouldn't be awake yet!"

Anthony took a deep breath to calm his self and continued with an exasperated shake of his head.

"For a while everyone assumed you were dead; Maschio was sure that that the Killing Curse had actually hit you. But there you were alive and well. Well, not well, but alive. They figured that the curse hit some debris before it hit you."

"It didn't hit me?" James asked amazed as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"No, it didn't!" He exclaimed. "You dueled the dark Lord and survived!"

With a relieved smirk James agreed. "I did. Didn't I?"

When James thought about how proud his mentor would be he was reminded of all that was lost. The smirk left his face and he lowered his head as he asked, "Others didn't though, did they?"

Acknowledging the change of mood Anthony turned somber. "No." he replied. "They didn't"

"Who?" James demanded. "I know of Madam Chevelle and the Vicini's."

"Yeah." Anthony replied. "Trilby also."

James was shocked. "Raul?"

James barely recognized the nod of assent. "When the building came down he wasn't as lucky as you."

James closed his eyes tight, willing the stinging burn to leave. besides the headmistress, Healer Trilby was his favorite; the boisterous Greek was always willing to listen and made his frequent trips to the infirmary bearable. Now he was gone.

'_How could he be dead?_' he thought.

Wanting to think about something else James looked around the familiar room and noticed that no other bed was occupied. "Where is everyone?"

"They are already up and about." His friend replied. "You were the only one we were really worried about. You're awake now though, so everyone will be relieved. You do have a few new scars to add to your collection, but you know what they say..."

James couldn't help the small smirk that graced him lips. He leaned back into his pillows and asked, "What happened?"

"According to Maschio" Anthony started, "Dumbledore showed up not thirty seconds after the building collapsed on you. Voldemort was hurt…"

"My knife?" He asked in surprise.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Your knife. Anyways, he was hurt, and Maschio had just started to duel him when the English showed up. Voldemort up and ran."

James couldn't believe it. He had actually hurt the Dark Lord. Not even with a wand, but with a simple muggle knife. '_Maybe he's not as unstoppable as everyone believes.'_

James was interrupted from his musings when Anthony started talking again. "Dumbledore may have been the reason Voldemort fled, but everyone is calling you the hero."

"I'm no hero." James stated with a shake of his head.

Anthony disagreed. "Yea, you are."

Ignoring Anthony's last statement James asked something that was bothering him. "So who fixed me up? If Trilby…."

"A Madam Pomfrey." Anthony interrupted. "She came after the fighting was over. She's Dumbledore's. When they found you still alive she rushed you here. You took a while to stabilize but once you weren't critical she fixed you right up."

"Where is she now?" He asked as he looked around the infirmary for a second time.

"Don't know." Anthony shrugged. "She left about ten minutes ago and said she would be right back."

"Oh!" he exclaimed before continuing. "I have something of yours. Maschio found it in the rubble and he gave it to me."

As Anthony said this he pulled a wrist band out of his pocket. It was thick black leather and in the center was his sphinx.

"I hope you don't mind." He nervously went on. "The chain was gone so the guys and I transfigured the band. I hope you like it."

Seeing his treasured possession James could help but be filled with gratitude. "My sphinx…"

Once the word slipped from his mouth James heard something like an echo in his mind, "**My little Sphinx.**"

It was clear as day, but for the life of him he could not tell if it was a man's voice or a woman's.

Shaking himself again he looked up at his friend and smiled. "Thanks Tony. It's great."

Before Anthony could reply there was a loud noise and the doors swung open. Not a second later an older women came into sight. "Mr. De Luca!" She exclaimed in surprise. "How on earth? You should have been out for at least a day."

"Opps." He grinned with a shrug. "Healer Trilby always said I was a fast healer."

"Well," she replied. "You may feel fine right now but that doesn't mean you are completely healed. I need to…"

It was at this point that Madam Pomfrey got a good look at his face; more specifically his bright green eyes.

"Oh…" She murmured stunned.

"What?" James asked surprise while Anthony stood to the side looking worried.

"It is nothing." She replied before getting a hold of her self. "I was just surprised about your eyes."

James was about to question her when she continued. "Don't get me wrong, they are beautiful. I just wasn't expecting them to be so green."

James wasn't used to flattery in the Infirmary. He wasn't sure how to respond. He finally gave the nurse a charming smile.

"Ah, thanks?"

With a roll of her eyes the Hogwarts nurse began James De Luca's check-up. Though the eyes and smile were extremely familiar she was nothing but professional and put her thoughts to the back of her mind. She would think about why the boy was familiar later.

* * *

It was a glorious Friday afternoon in the Italian countryside. The sun was bright, the soft white clouds made a perfect backdrop against the azure sky, and a light fragranced breeze kept things cool. It was perfect, and James hated it.

He felt that the earth herself should be mourning the loss of Maria Chevelle, and yet here was this perfect day mocking him.

'_Shouldn't it at least be raining'?_

James stood off to the side watching the service. Maria would have hated it; she hated pomp, and yet there she was, lying in an alabaster coffin surrounded by hundreds of roses. Per his request there was a piano to the right playing soft music. Nothing too sad; Madam Chevelle wouldn't want anyone to cry. Anthony and Nico stood at his side saying nothing. Just giving the support they knew their friend needed.

There were hundreds of people spread out under the canopy that had been placed on the back lawn of the Accademia. The students and teachers took up most of the chairs but there were many faces that James did not recognize; Muggle family and friends, friends from her school days, Italian wizards who believed in her cause, even Albus Dumbledore could be seen among other English wizards.

Maria's muggle sister gave the Eulogy, but James paid no attention. He couldn't take his mind from the last time he had seen her. She was at his side and along with Master Maschio they were watching the final stages of a battle that should have killed all of them. She was relieved, and when she turned her eyes to her student James could see she was proud. James remembered thinking that in the thrill of battle she was never so radiant, so alive. She was a warrior, and James knew she would be happy that she went down fighting.

Silent tears fell from his green eyes and he did nothing to stop them.

James paid no heed to the many people that talked of his teacher, and it wasn't until Anthony squeezed his shoulder that he took notice of what was happening. Darius Maschio was standing in front of the casket and was staring directly at him. Realizing it was his turn to speak, James took a deep breath, wiped the tears from his face, and walked to the front.

When he reached the head of the service he placed his hand on the coffin and lowered his head; his muttered words were carried in the breeze so none of the mourners could hear his words.

Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lord,  
and let perpetual light shine upon them.  
May the souls of the faithful departed  
through the mercy of God rest in peace.  
Amen.

When he finished his prayer James lifted his head and looked over the crowed. He took another deep breath and without meaning to let out a choked laugh. He shook his head clear it and with an apology he began to speak.

"I'm sorry; I don't know what has come over me. Madam Chevelle would have smacked me over my head for how disoriented I am. Maria Chevelle was my mentor and I owe her so much. No words can describe who she was and what she fought for, but I loved her, and I will miss her greatly. She taught me many things but the one thing I will never forget is that life isn't worth living if you can't enjoy it. That life is tough; get over it. And she always told me that sometimes you have to fail to truly appreciate your success.

"Maria Chevelle enjoyed her journey, the good and the bad. She had a goal, and whenever she fell she got up. She knew she might not achieve her goal, reach her mountain, But she showed us, her students the way. Her journey may be over, but we still have many mountains to climb, and I know her advice to all of us would be to enjoy them, and when things get tough, when we fail, get up, push through and continue living.

"Um, I have a song I wanted to share with everyone. I actually wrote this song for Maria; she gave me the idea earlier in the summer and I just finished it last night. She didn't get to hear it but I know she would have loved it. At first I wasn't sure if the song would be appropriate, but I changed my mind, and hope everyone understands why."

With that said James turned around and headed towards the empty piano. He sat down, placed his hands gently on the keys, took a deep breath and began to play a soft melody.

I can almost see it  
That dream I am dreaming  
But there's a voice inside my head saying  
"You'll never reach it"

Every step I'm taking  
Every move I make feels  
Lost with no direction  
My faith is shaking

But I gotta keep trying  
Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain  
I'm always gonna wanna make it move  
Always gonna be a uphill battle  
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there  
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side  
It's the climb

The struggles I'm facing  
The chances I'm taking  
Sometimes might knock me down  
But no, I'm not breaking

I may not know it  
But these are the moments that  
I'm gonna remember most, yeah  
Just gotta keep going

And I, I got to be strong  
Just keep pushing on

'Cause there's always gonna be another mountain  
I'm always gonna wanna make it move  
Always gonna be a uphill battle  
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there  
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side  
It's the climb, yeah!

There's always gonna be another mountain  
I'm always gonna wanna make it move  
Always gonna be an uphill battle  
Somebody's gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there  
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side  
It's the climb, yeah!

Keep on moving, keep climbing  
Keep the faith, baby  
It's all about, it's all about the climb  
Keep the faith, keep your faith, whoa

As James' played the last note his hands stilled as he listened to the dying notes. He lowered his head to hide his tears from the other mourners. He felt a hand drop to his shoulder and knew it was Maschio. At the sympathetic touch he knew he had to get out of there before he broke down. Suddenly he pushed back on the bench and stood up, and without a backwards glance James turned on his heel and walked towards the southern boundary.

James never knew how much his song had affected the crowed; that in the fading light there was not a single eye that had not shed a tear. His thoughts were only on the mentor he had lost and how in just a few hours he would be at Hogwarts. A new chapter of his life was about to begin, and he had n idea that he would be in the center of a war he had always been fighting.

For now he just walked, and remembered.

* * *

A/N

**The Climb lyrics** by Miley Cyrus

So how did everyone like the first person in the first section? I wasn't sure about it but I couldn't write it any other way. Anyone know who the woman is? Brownie points for anyone who guesses.

Hope this chapter satisfied you all after what I was told was an evil cliffhanger. Was it really that bad? You all knew I wasn't going to kill him off. The question is was he AK'ed or did the debris really block it? I'm not telling…

So James was going to get to Hogwarts this chapter but I had to end it at the funeral. I wasn't going to include it but then James sat down at that darn piano and the scene took on a life of its own. I hope everyone like it, especially electric2book.

I wasn't quite satisfied with this chapter but I wanted to get it out before school starts next week. Thanks again for reading and I hope you review. Toodles!


	12. An Unfamiliar Land

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.

Alan Cohen

Every generalization is dangerous, especially this one.

Mark Twain

* * *

An Unfamiliar Land

* * *

Though it was early September, the evening air was chill. Michael couldn't see his breath, but that didn't stop him from huddling close to his friends and the warmth of the entranceway. At lunch Professor Dumbledore had announced that they would in fact be hosting half of the Italian students and that they would be arriving right after dinner.

According to his father Madam Maxine had refused the upper years; Hogwarts would receive the fifth years and above. The rumor was that she had argued that the upper years _had not had the proper training in manners _and she would not have them spoiling her students. Supposedly the younger years could still be influenced.

Whatever her reasoning Michael was glad. He hadn't been looking forward to a bunch of hyper children who couldn't speak English. At least the upper years all spoke the language and he knew that they would have at least a few in Gryffindor.

Michael could feel the excitement in the air and not even Hermione's enthusiastic chattering or Ron's grumbling could dampen his mood.

"I'm hungry." Ron Weasley complained as he stomped his feet hoping to stay warm.

Michael could see Hermione roll her eyes in exasperation before she scolded their friend, "For goodness sake Ron, we just had dinner."

"Yea, well, I didn't ask for dinner to be cut short." He defended. "Why are they coming so late anyways?"

Before Hermione could respond she was interrupted by a loud bang and multiple flashes of light. Abruptly as it had happened, it was over and the grass was covered with over seventy-five new people.

The sudden quite was interrupted by a surprised curse. "Merda!"

Michael wasn't sure what was said, but by the smirks on some of the foreign student's faces he was confident the teen that had cursed would not repeat it in front of his mother. Looking for the source of the explicative Michael noticed a few of the students helping a dark haired teen off the ground.

Michael couldn't help smirking to himself, '_At least I'm not the only one who can't stick the landing.'_

Ignoring the incident, Dumbledore stepped forward with his usual congenial smile. He grasped one of the teacher's hands and welcomed the group "Darius." he greeted. "I see you made it in one peace. No trouble I hope?"

"No Albus," the professor responded with a tight smile. "No trouble that cannot be rectified." At his statement the teacher sent an obvious glance in the direction of the teen who was still brushing off his clothes; the teen had not yet looked up so the effort was wasted. Turning back to Dumbledore the Professor continued. "Thank you again Headmaster, we are in you debt."

"It is no trouble at all, a privilege even." Dumbledore replied as he began to walk towards the castle. "Why don't we head in, I am sure your students are tired."

Darius chuckled and with a shake of his head he followed. "I wouldn't be so sure headmaster. We have not yet mentioned that they will be sorted tomorrow morning. I am afraid that I will have a revolt on my hands. I don't expect them to sleep anytime soon."

As the two headmasters began to head towards the castle Minerva McGonagall began to usher her students to follow. "Come now," she ordered. "It is nearly curfew and you need to get back to the dorms. You can discuss the new students later."

As the trio headed for the castle Michael couldn't help but comment, "A revolt? Why would being sorted cause a revolt?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Boys," she exclaimed. "It's not that hard to figure out."

Ron, still peeved about having to cut dinner short, snapped in frustration. "Well, _miss know it all_, do tell."

"Ron," Michael chided before turning back towards Hermione. "Ignore him, why do you think that is?"

"The house system is unique. Most schools just separate students by years and that's it. Some of those students have been together for seven years and now, when they are being thrown into a completely new environment, they are being separated." She explained before continuing. "I would be upset also."

Turning back to the obviously close group of students, Michael could understand why they would be upset.

……………………………

The trip to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was uneventful; well the Accademia students could say this since they were used to James De Luca tripping over his own feet. As the sixth year hit the ground a curse slipped between his lips, and no matter what anyone accused him of, James would testify that he tried to prevent it. Trying not to laugh, Anthony and seventh year Vinny Lancino helped James to his feet. He hadn't looked up, but James could feel the glare of Master Maschio so he decided to occupy himself with dusting off his shirt and tie. He knew he was going to get an earful later.

Once James could no longer justify dusting off imaginary dirt he looked up and got his first sight of Hogwarts.

No more then 50 yards lay the most majestic building James had ever seen. Vines covered the south side of the weathered castle and its grounds were immaculate. The sun was just setting and the windows were on aflame in the fading light. The castle was massive and James could see how it could once have been a fortress. The air was crisp, and though it was cold, it wasn't as bad as he had expected.

All in all, it was impressive. James quirked his eyebrow and let out a short whistle.

"I know what you mean." Nico responded with similar awe.

Anthony, who hadn't said anything yet, continued to look at the castle thoughtfully. Finally he said, "guarda vecchio"

"It does not look old," Nico argued. His indignation faded quickly and with a smug look he continued, "It's medieval."

James and Anthony couldn't help but laugh.

With a final chortle James lightly punched Anthony's shoulder and joked, "You're just spoiled Tony."

"Am not," he defended half heartedly. "I'm just frustrated that our tech won't work here.

"You're resourceful. You'll figure something out. Besides, Professor Siracusa can help you." Nico suggested. "He loves a challenge."

"Suppongo," he replied. Suddenly, his faced filled with excitement.

Looking at his friend's sudden anticipation James wondered why he always played so oblivious.

He was smart when he wasn't playing the fool.

Tony was smart, but most brushed him off as a rich kid that never grew up; he loved to act like a child, but Anthony was far from childish. Few people knew the real Anthony Rinaldo though, and James felt honored that he was one.

James was roused from his reverie by his friend cursing, "Murda! If I want to call my father I have to leave."

With a smirk James replied, "You'll just have to walk to the edge of the town, it's not _that _far."

"Ugg," He groaned. "Don't remind me. I hate walking."

As Anthony stalked after their headmaster James couldn't help but wonder how the guy that ran two miles with him every morning could hate walking. James looked over at Nico and saw the same thought running through his mind. The two friends shared a smirk, and with a roll of their eyes ran to catch up with their friend.

* * *

An hour later, Michael could be found in his dorm discussing the new arrivals with his dorm mates. Seamus and Dean were playing a game of gobstones while Neville finished the conclusion of an essay due Monday. Ron was draped across the foot of Michael's bed reading the newest edition of Quidditch Monthly while his friend leaned against the head board of his four poster polishing his cherry wand.

"I don't know why everyone is so worked up about them." The Irish commented as he took his turn. "I mean, they're just students."

"Ah," teased the muggleborn, "is Seamus worried that the girls will ignore him in favor of the Italians?"

"Shut up Dean."

The room erupted in laughter as the Irish threw one of his gobstones at his friend. Dean tried to dodge but wasn't quick enough and ended up with green goop coving his face.

Between his laughter Neville was able to reassure his friend. "Don't worry Seamus, they're just fresh meat. The awe will wear off soon enough."

A new round of laughter erupted and when it finally began to die down Michael Michel slipped his wand in his arm holster and looked at his dorm mates. After a moment he asked the question that was on all their minds. "Seriously though, tomorrow we're going to have some new room mates. What do you think they'll be like?"

"Not sure," replied Dean, "But I hope they like football."

"Hate to be a pessimist, "said Ron, "but even if they play football, they wont be a West Ham fan."

"SO?" he argued. "I'll convert them."

"Yea," Michael laughed. "Like Ron was going to convert me."

"Hey!" the red head exclaimed. "The Chudley Cannons are a great team; they've just had a few bad years."

"Or decades." Michael murmured.

The room was once again filled with laughter as Ron threw his pillow at the youngest Potter. When the impromptu pillow fight was finished all five boys were laying on either the floor or a bed panting. As they pulled themselves to their individual four posters Seamus spoke up again.

"Seriously though, their arrival was anticlimactic"

"Tell me about it," Griped Ron from under his covers. "We cut dinner early for that. They're not even being sorted till tomorrow morning."

"Only you Ron." Michael said aloud as he fell asleep.

* * *

"I cannot believe they are doing this!"

The silence that had permeated the room after Darius Maschio left was finally broken when Sergio Tresca yelled out in frustration.

James sat in the corner of the room in a large chair. His position had hid James from Maschio's view, but he wasn't sure if the fact that his teacher couldn't see his glare was good or not. He understood the reasoning behind being sorted, but James knew it would cause problems; it was also stupid.

Like always, Anthony didn't seem to have a problem in the world. He was currently sitting on the floor at James' feet and leaning his head on the seat cushion. He would periodically take a bite of the apple he held in his hand but that was it. To someone not familiar with the aristocrat, his friend seemed indifferent to the situation. James knew differently though. The fact the apple wasn't already consumed—and the rigid line of his back—gave away the fear that his friend was feeling.

To his right Nico sat in a similar chair. His elbows were on his knees and his hands clasped under his chin. James knew he was already pondering solutions.

It was obvious by the fifth year's outburst that no one wanted to be split up.

At the fifteen year olds exclamation the silence was broken and the room exploded in murmurs. The loudest were the Mancini brothers, "What about us? We have always been together. From the descriptions of the houses I do not think we will end up in the same house."

A light haired seventh year by the name of Hugo Vasari rose from his seat before anyone else could speak up."Come on guys, it won't be so bad." he reassured. "Like Maschio said, Dumbledore agreed to create a common room that everyone can use and we will still attend our Muggle classes together."

"That's not the point Hugo." James interrupted drawing everyone's attention. "The house system is antiquated. The Academia has always stressed unity, and their house system does everything but that. It separates people based on stereotypes and doesn't allow students to interact with others of differing views."

At the nods of agreement James continued, "Besides, the day time isn't when most people have problems, but at night when there is nothing to distract them. Everything here is unfamiliar, and they are basically throwing us to the wolves without a support system."

"He's right; we are friends, and I don't want to become rivals. This year would be so much easier if we were together." Nico quietly added as he leaned back in his chair and looked to his friend.

"Then what do you propose De Luca? That we fight?" James ignored Sergio's sarcasm and let him continue. "Not all of us are as talented as you!"

"There isn't going to be any fighting." James replied firmly. "But we have to stand together."

From across the room Antonia Collovati spoke up. "Jimmy's right." Looking at her green eyed friend Antonia smiled at the mouthed _'thanks Toni'_, before continuing. "They cannot make us do anything we don't want to do."

"We cannot stay together though, they will not let us." Isabella Giodano added.

"I know." Said Antonia thoughtfully, "but what if we set conditions?"

Sitting forward in his chair Nico asked, "Like what?"

Fifteen year old Giuseppe Perani spoke up first. "Well, they already said we could have a common room, so that is not an issue."

"We want to stay together." James suddenly said as he stood up and started to pace.

The silence lingered for a moment before, "Huh?" Giuseppe said confused, "You lost us there Jimmy."

"We don't want to be separated, but we know we are going to be no matter what." James said as he came to a stop. He continued "Why don't we make sure that no one will be alone."

"How are we going to do that?" Hugo asked.

"We could demand that some of us not be officially sorted." Sixth Year Marisa Tancredo recommended.

"I do not know if they would allow that." Nico said. "They take the house sorting pretty seriously."

Nico was right. There was no way that Headmaster Dumbledore would agree to allow a few students not to be sorted. Ironically, it was the purposefully dense Anthony that came up with a solution. "What if we only chose people who would do well in any house?"

Anthony's suggestion startled a few people who thought he was asleep; his eyes were still closed and his head was still lying on James seat. At the shocked silence he opened his eyes and slightly lifted his head. Other then James and Nico, the occupants of the room stared at Anthony Rinaldo in surprise. Seeing the looks, he shrugged his shoulders with a "what," took another bit of his apple, and laid his head back down.

Shaking his head at Anthony's antics, and the fact he actually made a suggestion, James spoke up again, "He's right, but we should do more."

Nico interrupted his pacing friend. "There should be six students," he suggested, "A guy and girl for each year. If anyone is sorted into a house and year by themselves then the corresponding six can go to that house."

Understanding what his friend was saying James spoke up and finished the thought, "And if we are not needed, at the end of the sorting we'll be sorted normally."

"I think that might work." Marisa said after a moment. "We will have to force them listen though. It will be tough."

Grinning at his fellow sixth year James asked, "You up for it?"

"What?" Marisa asked confused.

"You and I are probably the most vocal. Are you up to the challenge of convincing the teachers?"

"Besides," piped in Anthony as he took another bite of his apple, "It was the two of you who came up with the idea"

James rolled his eyes at his friend before he turned back to Marisa. "So? You in?"

After a moments hesitation she smirked. "Sure. I think I'm up for the challenge."

"Good." James said with another smirk."Then it's settled."

"So…," Antony interrupted for a third time. "Who's _not_ going to be sorted?"

"Oh"

James guessed they hadn't thought the plan out as much as he had thought. Looking around the room the sixth year knew it would be a long night trying to decide who could fit into all the houses.

………………………………………

"Sooo… how did it go?" asked the music and French teacher Claire Machiavelli as the Accademia's headmaster entered the staff room.

Maschio glared for a moment before he finally responded. "How do you think they responded Claire? And don't think that I didn't' notice you sneak off when the time came to tell them."

"What can I say? I know how to preserve my life." The French women replied.

With a groan Maschio dropped into a chair and began to rub the bridge of his nose.

After a moment of silence the Accademia's Transfiguration teacher spoke up, "So, where do you think they will be sorted?"

At the mention of the sorting the Hogwarts teachers began to listen in. Bebbe Oriali continued, "I think we will have our fair share of Ravenclaws and Slytherins."

"Slytherins?" Snape scoffed before he continued with his traditional sneer. "Do you really think so? They are all Muggleborns. I will be surprised if the hat will place any one of them into Salazar's house."

"First of all" argued Erika Kristic, "They are not all Muggleborns. Moreover, will that disqualify them from going into the house? I thought it was the house of the cunning and ambitious? Believe me, our students have that in spades."

Though he would never admit it, Darius couldn't help but be amused at his female colleagues and their antics. All the teachers took their duties to the students very seriously, but the women seemed much more protective. As the saying goes, he thought, '_Hell hath no fury like a women scorned'._

Before the Russian could continue, Darius interrupted her. "Erika, I do not believe that Professor Snape meant it as an insult, merely an observation." He turned to Snape and asked a question. "I know of many students who could end up in Slytherin, should I be worried about how they will be treated?"

After a moment in which neither of the men looked away, Snape finally responded to the Italian's inquiry. "I do not believe the hat would put them at risk, but if any of your students are sorted into my house I will make sure they are safe." Snape said before he smirked, "It is amazing what a little persuasion can do. They might not make friends, but they will be safe."

"Thank you Professor." Maschio replied with a nod. "I am sure that is all I can ask of you."

"So?" Frank Todero hesitated a moment. "Anyone want to take a bet?"

………………………………………..

Pomona Sprout and Minerva McGonagall couldn't help but laugh as their new colleagues began to bet on what house their students would go into. Severus had left moments before in a huff but the transfiguration mistress didn't what to miss the action. The hat in the center on the low table was quickly filling to the brim with galleons and sickles.

"Miss Santos and Mr. Benetti will both be Slytherins, that I have no doubt." Enrico Machiavelli stated as he threw in both his wife's and his wagers.

"I wouldn't bet against that." Leone Montella, one of the history teachers agreed, "but I will put my money on Miss Lorente and Mr. Luciano going to Ravenclaw."

"I can see Abrielle," the Russian replied, "but not Nico. That boy has a stubborn streak. I would place him in Gryffindor with Anthony."

"Rinaldo is definitely going to Gryffindor, and so are the Bianchi twins." The Italian Transfiguration mistress claimed. "I would also wager Giuseppe Perani will go to Hufflepuff."

"Huh." scoffed Matteo Verace, "I'll believe that when I see it. Hugo Vasari on the other hand is definitely going to be wearing yellow."

Curious about the one student she knew something about Minerva finally spoke up. "What about De Luca?"

At the silence she wondered what she said wrong. Finally, Maschio spoke up with a grin. "No one?"

The Ancient Ruins professor finally spoke up. "I'm not sure." He said thoughtfully. "He could do well in any house. However, I think he will sweet talk his way into Gryffindor."

"Why Gryffindor?" Pomona asked, curious.

The answer was simultaneous from every direction.

"Anthony Rinaldo."

At he confused looks Darius spoke up. "They're best friends. De Luca will be sorted first, but I'm sure he can guess where his friend will end up."

* * *

"Which one is De Luca?"….."Look at the one with red hair, isn't he cute?"….."I guess so, but look at the one with green eyes, he's hot"

"Bloody girls." James thought as he and Marisa walked into the hall. He tried to ignore the whispers but he had always prided himself on his hearing and didn't know how to shut it off.

He had to physically restrain himself when he started to hear the guys talk though. No one should say that about his friends, especially women.

As Professor McGonagall led the new students into the hall the rest of the teachers rose from their seats. Looking over his students Maschio grew worried. "Oh dear..."

With a look as his worried counterpart Dumbledore leaned toward the Defense Master and asked, "What is the matter my boy?"

Rolling his eyes at the 'my boy' comment Maschio replied, "They have something planned."

"And how would you know that?" Severus inquired with his usual sneer.

Ignoring the Potions Master he pointed with his chin to the two leading students. "De Luca and Tancredo. Their faces."

"Yes," Matteo Verace, Maschio's second at Hogwarts said, "They do look as if they are preparing themselves for battle."

Before any of the teachers could respond the students came to a stop. Dumbledore was about to officially welcome the foreign students, but James took a step forward and interrupted. "We, as in all of us, came to a decision last night."

The students and staff were shocked. Very few students dared to speak up to Albus Dumbledore, but here one was. The Accademia teachers could barely withhold their mirth. Getting control of his smirk, the Defense Master asked, "And what, may I ask, did you decide?"

There was barely a pause before James replied, "We don't want to be sorted."

At hearing his declaration Dumbledore finally spoke up, "Young man, I know...."

Once again James did not let him finish, "But," he stressed, "We understand that it will help integrate us, so we will submit to the sorting, on one condition."

"I don't see how..." This time Minerva McGonagall was interrupted.

"What is your condition?" Maschio asked, knowing it was the only way to continue.

Emboldened by her friend's success, the young women at his side spoke, "Six of us, a male and female from each year will postpone our sorting till the end."

She paused nervously and James continued before anyone could interrupt. "If any student ends up in a house and year alone then their counterpart will not be sorted and go to that house."

The hall was silent, not even the students dared to Breath; no one had ever made demands regarding their sorting. The indignation was clear on the headmaster's faced when he started to speak. "Young man, I am sorry, but I cannot agree...."

Ignoring Dumbledore, Darius Maschio asked a question. "I am guessing that the six have already been decided?"

"Yes." Marisa answered while many other students nodded there heads in the positive.

When James saw the expectant look on his headmaster's face he continued. "Claude and Tess from 5th, Marisa and myself from 6th, and Eugene and Giulietta from seventh."

Though irritated at being interrupted so many times, Dumbledore knew Darius knew his students best. At his contemplative look Dumbledore turned to his fellow headmaster and asked. "What are you thinking Darius?"

"The six students they mentioned are well balanced and could do well in any house." He said, "I think we should let them have this. It will make them happy and they will go ahead with the sorting. This will stop them from causing too much trouble and I really don't want to deal with it."

Seeing the truth in his reasoning Dumbledore acquiesced, "I will defer to your judgment in this case." He turned back to the students and said, "Very well, we agree to your terms, but I do ask that you still try on the hat to make sure your chosen house is acceptable?"

After trading looks with a few other students James turned back and replied, "We agree."

"Excellent." He clapped. "Well then, why don't we get started?" With that finished he sat down with a flourish and the other teachers followed. With a small gesture from the Headmaster Professor McGonagall picked up the stool from behind the head table and placed it in the center of the stage. She cleared her throat and called out the first name.

"Alito, Belladona! 5th year!"

When her name was called a tall fifth year strode confidently towards the stool and the waiting hat. After only a moment the hat made its decision and _Ravenclaw_ was heard throughout the hall. Applause erupted from the middle table clad in blue and Bella made her way to her new house.

The first Accademia student had been sorted and they had about fifty more to sort. All the students knew it was going to be a long morning and they were grateful that their first classes had been canceled.

"Benetti, Raphael! 7th year!"

When the hat shouted "Slytherin!" the room descended in silence. None of the Hogwarts Students expected the Muggleborn students to go to the snakes den. The new Slytherin looked around for his house and stopped abruptly when he saw the disgusted looks coming from the end table. For a moment he hesitated before he raised his chin and confidently walked to the green table.

A set of 7th year twins, "Bianchi, Mia" and Bianchi, Roberto," were called consecutively and both ended up in Gryffindor.

"Donati, Nicholas! 6th year!" Was called and sent to Slytherin, while to the shock of his teachers, "Luciano, Nico! 6th year!" went to Gryffindor.

6th year "Milano, Sofia" followed her boyfriend, "Lancino, Vincent!" to Hufflepuff.

Two more Ravenclaws were called before Nuncio, Adriana! 7th year!" and "Perani, Giuseppe! 5th year!" were sent to Slytherin.

"Rinaldo, Anthony! 6th year!" was finally called and Anthony turned to James and grasped his shoulder. With a squeeze he headed towards the stool hoping that his friend, his brother, would end up in the same house. With a glare directed at the dirty wizard's hat he reached down and placed the offending object on his head. Less then a minute later "Gryffindor!" was heard throughout the hall.

"Santos, Camilla! 7th year!"

As Professor McGonagall called the next name a beautiful blond stepped from the group of Italian students. She was tall and had the body any girl would envy. A few wolf whistles could be heard from the Gryffindor table and their only reception was a sneer. The blond strode to the stool and a moment later the hat yelled, "Slytherin!"

A few more students were sorted and when only the six remained James turned to the others and asked, "Guys?"

Claude Moreau, a small fifth year spoke up first. "Mikey is alone in Ravenclaw."

As a group the teens looked over to the Ravenclaw table and saw the hopeful face of Michelangelo Pinosi looking back at them. A look of relief flooded his face as he saw Claude's nod.

As they turned back to each other Marisa asked, "Anyone else?"

"Mia in Gryffindor." Said a Red haired Seventh year by the name of Giulietta.

"Okay." James thought aloud as he nodded. He then turned back to the headmaster and cleared his throat. He finally spoke aloud and said, "Giulietta Marino will go to Gryffindor and Claude Moreau will go to Ravenclaw. The rest of us will be sorted normally."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed as he rose to his feet. "However, we did agree to one other aspect. So, before Miss Marino and Mister Moreau go to their respective houses I would like them to try on the hat. We do not want them to go to a house that they are not adequately suited for.

With a resigned sigh James motioned for Claude to head up to the stool. The fifth year placed the hat on his head and within a minute the hat agreed, "Ravenclaw is acceptable." A moment later Giulietta had the sorting hat on her head and within moments her selection was also accepted.

"Excellent!" The headmaster clapped. "Now that we have that done I believe it is time to sort the four of you. Mister De Luca? I believe you are first."

With that James took a deep breath and took a step towards the hat, and unknowingly, his future.

* * *

A/N

I am so sorry, I had three research papers due this week, and midterms were before that. Other then that, I have no excuse.

Okay, on to other things. I hate this chapter (well kinda). Everything happened that I had planned but I don't like the writing; something just isn't right. Also, I will admit that I am loosing motivation. I mean, Look at how long it took me to get this chapter out? The scene where Harry/James is 'killed' is what I was originally aiming for; now that I have written that I don't have an urgent need to get to any other scenes. I have tons of ideas and some already written out but no major ones that get my emotions riled up.

Thank you trewin7502, you were my 35th review (and heartlessgroom who was my 36th). It got me to finish the last section that I had been putting off. It is horrible being added to over a dozen favorites in a two week span but receiving no Reviews. So here is a hint. Review!

Did everyone enjoy Dumbledore being interrupted? I just had to do it, I can just see the look on his face, but I know I didn't do it justice. Also for those of you who want to know I didn't realize it in the beginning but I have fashioned a few of my characters off of others that I love. Nico is a mini Remus, level headed, intellectual, but knows how to have fun. Anthony is turning out to be fashioned like my favorite character from the TV show NCIS, can anyone guess who? Darius is like a much milder Snape. I hope this helps.

Finally, I am going to finish this but updates are going to be erratic and probably slow (not a year guys, I promise). I would love input and ideas, but most of all MOTIVATION. So if you want the chapters quicker I need to feel a little guilt. What I am getting at is REVIEW!!!

**Italian Translations**

Merda!--- Just think a little stronger then crap. Sorry guys, I just couldn't write it.

Suppongo---I suppose


	13. AN and a little extra

Kay…So my butt has been kicked while trying to write this chapter and I came to the realization that I forgot the story I was writing and that I wasn't doing the actual plot any justice.

So I know you guys are going to hate this but I am going over my story again and rewriting some sections. Hopefully there wont be anything major, just a few added scenes that tie the plot together better.

Thank you everyone for your great support, it has been amazing and hopefully this won't take long.

Just so you know this isn't the entire chapter (There is more but it was those sections that had not been established yet and need to be), but it was what most of you guys were waiting for. When I finally do repost it will be this chapter and I'll include a list of chapters that had been changed to any real extent. Thanks for you patience guys and I hope you enjoy these two scenes.

Michael collapsed into his favorite overstuffed chair with a sigh, and finally letting himself relax he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He sat there for a moment, letting the sounds of his friends bickering wash over him. A moment later his mind registered what his sensitive ears could hear.

Ooooo oooooo ohoohohoo  
Ooooo ohooohoo oooohoo  
Ooooo ohoohooo oohoooo  
Somewhere over the rainbow  
Way up high  
And the dreams that you dreamed of  
Once in a lullaby ii ii iii

It was a familiar tune; a bittersweet melody that he knew better then any other song. It was Harry's song, and it was coming from the boy's dorm.

Somewhere over the rainbow  
Blue birds fly  
And the dreams that you dreamed of  
Dreams really do come true ooh ooooh

Startling his friends as he suddenly stood from his chair Michael headed towards the stairs. Michael didn't know what he would find. He wasn't even sure what he thought, But he had to find the source of that song. He knew it with every fiber of his being.

Someday I'll wish upon a star  
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me ee ee eeh  
Where trouble melts like lemon drops  
High above the chimney tops thats where you'll find me oh

His hurried footsteps quickly took him up the steps. He knew it wasn't Harry, that was irrational, but he had never heard anyone in Gryffindor play any instrument, let alone a guitar. As he ascended the stairs he barely paused at the doors before disregarding it as the source of the haunting tune.

Somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly  
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I? i iiii

Well I see trees of green and  
Red roses too  
I'll watch them bloom for me and you  
And I think to myself  
What a wonderful world

Up ahead he say his own door and knew it was coming from inside. Michael skidded to a stop and Ron, who had run after him, collided with his back.

Well I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white  
And the brightness of day  
I like the dark and I think to myself  
What a wonderful world

"What was that about!?" his friend exclaimed, but Michael ignored the redhead. Slowly, lifted his hand and rested it on the door handle. He paused, taking a moment to list to the song, not sure if he wanted to open the door. Finally, he took a deep breath and turned the knob.

The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky  
Are also on the faces of people passing by  
I see friends shaking hands  
Saying, "How do you do?"  
They're really saying, I...I love you

The door gently swung open and Michael was awash with the beautiful song. His eyes quickly darted around the room, disregarded Neville and two of his new room mates and settled on the third.

I hear babies cry and I watch them grow,  
They'll learn much more  
Than we'll know  
And I think to myself  
What a wonderful world (w)oohoorld

HE watched as the Italian gently played the song, lost in the lyrics. His voice was beautiful, but that wasn't what surprised him. What surprised Michael was that it belonged to James De Luca, the Dueling Champion.

Someday I'll wish upon a star,  
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me  
Where trouble melts like lemon drops  
High above the chimney top that's where you'll find me  
Oh, Somewhere over the rainbow way up high  
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I? I hiii?

Sitting at the opposite end of the table that morning, Michael hadn't had a chance to meet his new roommates yet. He knew he probably should introduce himself but he was still mesmerized by the music. He did though take a moment to scrutinize the newcomer; at a glance he could pass for half of the news students. He seemed to be average height, maybe just a tad taller, and his ebony hair was long enough to brush the back of his neck. His hair wasn't messy, but it had a slight wave that testified if it was shorter it probably would be. His head was tilted down and to the side so he couldn't see many other features so Michael turned to other aspects. The dueler was leading against his headboard and his long frame was spread across the bed with his feet crossed at the ankles; He was barefoot. He wore an old pair of jeans and a simple black t-shirt; simple but practical, and it suited him. Absorbed in the music like he was it looked like he didn't have a care in the world. Michael stared unabashed for what seemed like forever.

Ooooo oooooo oooooo  
Ooooo oooooo oooooo  
Ooooo oooooo oooooo

As the song began to die down the newcomer finally looked up. His eyes caught those of Michael and the two stared.

As he two sets of eyes locked Michaels' breath was forcefully expelled from his chest. Just like he had heard that song before, he had seen those eyes.

They were emerald green.

They were his mother's eyes.

They were Harry's eyes.

Michael didn't notice the other boy's scrutiny and he didn't care. His mind was no longer in the Gryffindor dorm room. Instead he was miles and years away from the present. He was in his room at Godric's Hollow, the room was dark and he and his brother couldn't stop laughing. Harry's eyes always lit up when he laughed.

Michael was broken out of his reverie by the Harry look-a-like.

"Sorry." The Italian said. "The others didn't mind, I could stop if you want me to?"

Michael shook his head and tried to compose himself enough to respond. James De Luca wasn't Harry. It was a coincidence; a strange and heart wrenching coincidence, but a coincidence none the less.

"No, it's fine." He exclaimed hoping the boy would continue. "I just was surprised, no one really plays here."

Michael was too late through. James was already placing he guitar under his bed. When he turned back around he asked in a soft accented voice, "Why is that?"

Michael finally realized that he had the entire's room attention. Neville had stopped his incessant writing and had looked up with a bemused smile. Ron had sat down on the bed next to the door, which happened to be Neville's, and was also watching his friend. The other two Italians were on the bed next to De Luca and both had stopped what they wee doing to hear Michael's answer. The one eating the apple was sprawled at the foot of what must have been the others bed. He was tall, had soft green eyes, and dark brown hair. The other was sitting against his headboard with his knees drawn up. A book was on his knees. He had brown eyes covered in thin silver rimed glasses and light brown hair.

With a shrug of his shoulders Michael headed towards his own for-poster and replied, "Don't know." As he sat down he once again turned his attention to the ebony haired youth. "So, I'm Michael, I haven't been able to introduce myself yet."

After a moment of scrutiny, a grin broke across his face and with a slight laugh he introduced himself.

"James." He said before gesturing to his right. "Those two are Tony and Nico."

Between the look that the three shared it was obvious to tell that they were close. Michael looked around, trying to find out what to say. Suddenly, the silence was broken by Ron.

"So," he asked. "Any of you like quiddich?"

………………………………

No matter what Lily tried she could not keep her mind from wondering back to that morning's sorting. No matter what Severus predicted the students had been sorted fairly equal with plenty of them going to Slytherin. Sometimes her friend could forget that he him self was a halfblood. The Slytherin Muggleborns and halfbloods were not what she found fascinating though. What she couldn't get out of her mind was the determined eyes—green, determined eyes—of James De Luca.

Thinking back to that morning Lily couldn't help but get lost in her memories.

_It was Saturday morning and unusually the hall was filled. Like normal though it was quite loud. _

_Dumbledore stood up and with a simple clearing of his throat the room settled down and quite reigned._

"_I know all of you are excited and I think you for arising early at such an early hour on your day off."_

_Lily couldn't help but chuckle. 8:30 wasn't that early was it?_

"_Now," he continued. "My dear Professor McGonagall, if you will."_

_With an "of course Albus" the elderly witch rose from her seat and headed towards the doors. She paused a moment before she pulled the double doors opened and gestured for the new students to make their way in._

_The first two students to cross the portal were a boy and girl, sixth years by the look of it. As the students followed the deputy headmistress to the front of the hall Lily was unaware of anything amiss. It wasn't until Darius' "oh dear" that she noticed anything about the two leading the precession. _

_Of the two students the female stood out the most. She was beautiful with red hair and blue eyes. __Marisa Tancredo, as she would later find out,__ held her self with a confidence that few were capable of; if she was weary, there was no sign of her apprehension. The boy beside her was no less captivating though. If Machio's muttered conversation with Dumbledore was correct then she was looking at James De Luca, the dueling champion and sixteen year old who duel Lord Voldemort and lived to tell about it. When the red headed beauty was filled with easy confidence the raven haired boy was exuding determination. His jaw was rigid, his shoulders strait and his green eyes burned._

_It wasn't till a moment later that Lily realized the implications of what she had just seen. _

_James de Luca's eyes were green. And not just a normal everyday green, they were deep and vibrant, and wholly unique._

_At her side her friend entered the conversation between the headmasters but she couldn't force herself to pay attention. She was riveted and she could not pull her eyes away from the green depths that she saw in the mirror every morning._

_She was lightheaded. She knew what she saw, but her mind couldn't comprehend what she saw. She couldn't help when a name slipped though her open lips._

"_Harry?"_

_No one heard her soft exclamation, but when her lost son's name reached her ears she was able to pull herself together._

'_It's not him.' She thought 'It's never him. It is just a coincidence that I am reading too much into.'_

_Before she had a chance to read anymore into James De Luca the boy spoke, "We, as in all of us, came to a decision last night."_

_At the shocked silence and look on the headmaster's face Lily realized that Albus must have been about to speak. The boy had interrupted the greatest wizard of the age and he did not look abashed. The potion's mistress had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. _

_Finally, Darius Maschio broke the silence,_ "And what, may I ask, did you decide?"

_Lily could tell he was serious, but she could also see the smirk that wanted to break across his face. Lily knew she would like this man._

…………….

Throughout the sorting and breakfast Lily was too shocked to think mush on the situation, but now, in the isolation of her rooms she couldn't help but laugh.

How many people can say that they had seen the Great Albus Dumbledore interrupted no once, but three times in a single conversation. She loved Albus dearly, but sometimes he needed to be brought down a peg or two and reminded that he wasn't all powerful.

Severus would call De Luca arrogant, but Lilly was prone to disagree. The boy was audacious but he had a point; there was nothing wrong with the Italian willing to fight against a perceived injustice.

All the teachers, including the new potions mistress, were intrigued by his boldness,

Lily was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of her door opening and closing. Only the very few she trusted knew thee pass word and she was only expected one of them. With a smile she turned around on the leather couch too look at her husband.

"James."


End file.
